The Darkness That Consumes
by TheMizMagnet
Summary: Gangs and cops are notorious for being enemies. The gangs want their freedom to do what they want, and the cops want them brought in for justice. But when the cops are in a gang, and the gang has infiltrated the justice system, things happen…
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Darkness That Consumes

**Rating**: M – Mature  
**Genre**: Action/Adventure, Romance, Suspense  
**Pairings**: Main: John Cena/The Miz Other: Hunter/Jeff, Punk/Matt, Randy/Ted/Cody, and others  
**Warnings**: Slash, death, torture, sex, mentions of rape and other crimes, slightly alternate universe, others to come  
**Summary**: Gangs and cops are notorious for being enemies. The gangs want their freedom to do what they want, and the cops want them brought in for justice. But when the cops are in a gang, and the gang has infiltrated the justice system, things happen… All kinds of things.

**AN**: So, this story was inspired by NeroAnne's _Rapture_, which I suggest you read if you're into slash and Hardycest. Honestly, I'm not that into Hardycest, but I loved it. She gave me permission to use her idea, so I'm dedicating this to her, hoping I do it justice. Thanks again, NeroAnne.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

The moon hung low in the night sky, bright silver beams illuminating the otherwise dark streets of the city. The shadow of the two adjacent buildings hid the darkened alley from the tantalizing beams of the moon above. The frantic thuds of a pair of rushed feet continued in a frenzied pattern on the somewhat damp asphalt as a man turned a corner, skidding slightly, as he ran into the alley. Two pairs of identical thuds followed him as he ran into the back of the alley, blocked in.

"You'd think they'd learn it's pointless to run."

"That'd ruin our fun though."

The first voice, deep and dripping with arrogance, belonged to the man who stepped into the few remaining moonbeams in the alley. He stood at a towering six feet, three inches, with dark brown hair that fell almost at his shoulders. It was pulled back by a pair of Aviator-style sunglasses, allowing it to fall in soft waves around his ears. He wore a pair of black boots, black tight pants, and a matching black hooded sweatshirt, one that was zipped to about his chest, and revealed the smooth bronze skin of his chest. His partner stepped into the light beside him, the six feet, one inch owner of the also arrogant second voice. His dirty blond hair was gelled up, giving the center a sort of Mohawk-esque appearance. He wore a pair of blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a black hooded sweatshirt with vertical gray pinstripes. It was unzipped enough to reveal the top of a dark gray t-shirt underneath it.

"N-no! What did I ever do to you?!"

The higher-pitched, terrified yelps of the man in front of them caused the partners to look at one another. The shorter male looked at his partner, blue eyes lit in mock-confusion.

"What did he do to us, John?" he asked, a smirk resting on his lips. John, the second man met his smirk with an identical one of his own.

"I don't know, Miz. I don't think he did anything to us."

The terrified man in the back of the alley sighed softly, putting one hand to his heart as a half-hearted laugh escaped him.

"You two shouldn't scare a guy like that," he said, the fear still evident in his voice. Miz shook his head as the partners moved toward the man cowering against the back wall of the alley.

"But you're still going to pay," Miz said, his voice low and terrifying. "You're going to pay for everything you've ever done."

The man squeaked in terror as John picked him up, one strong hand wrapped around his throat. He wasn't holding the terrified man hard enough to strangle him, but he was causing the man tight enough to cause him to gasp for air.

"What did he do, Miz?" John asked, a grin on his features.

"For starters, he could get dressed a little better in the morning. And take a shower. That'd probably help."

"Miz."

"Fine, you asshole. He stalked a young woman, by the name of Melissa, for three years, something that usually catches Michelle and Gail's attention, but then Melissa got married. And then, you locked her and her new husband, Jean, in the house and doused the exterior of the house in gasoline. After that, you dropped a match on the gasoline and watched them burn to death. That puts your ball in our court."

The man's eyes widened in terror as he was made aware of his crimes, had it all pointed out to him as though these two men were simply reading the paper. He shook his head, his grubby hands holding onto John's wrist.

"N-no! I-I didn't… I loved her! And she ignored me for that stupid, filthy, French bastard! I tried to talk to her! She wouldn't listen! He wasn't good for her, no, no… He was bad for her…"

John made a face of disgust and tightened his grip on the man's throat. Miz sighed and shook his head.

"They'll never learn, will they, John? They always must repent for their sins and blah, blah, blah. Can we kill him now? Nip/Tuck is on in five, and I'm not missing it tonight."

"Miz, TV will rot your brain," John stated, throwing the man against the brick wall to the left of them. Miz sighed, pulling a small bottle of a clear liquid out of the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"I know. But I'm okay with that as long as I get to watch more of it," he stated. John shook his head, pulling out a small pack of matches. The blood dripped from the man's head, and the partners looked at him, unsympathetic blue and brown eyes eyeing the blood as it pooled around his head.

"Come on, John. I'm sick of looking at this," Miz said, opening the bottle of gasoline, and pouring it on the man's body, drenching his clothes and skin. John nodded, ignoring the scent of gas as it tickled his nostrils, and he rubbed the end of the match against the strip on the pack, watching in mild interest as the gray tip went to a bright, vibrant orange with a blue center. He shook his head, leaning down to press the flame to the trail of gasoline leading away from the body before he waved the match out, placing the match in the bottle, which Miz then closed and slid back in his pocket. They watched as the gasoline lit fire, the trail of flames hitting the man's body and igniting him like an inferno. They turned, walking away from the scene, as the dead man became conscious, and his screams were swallowed up by the night.

The door slammed open, hitting the wooden door behind it. It opened directly into a large, plush living room. A large, white couch rested against the wall and there was a longer, black couch perpendicular to that one. On the white couch, a blond haired woman with gray eyes was laying, lounging, her arm around a smaller, Asian woman. The blond woman wore a pair of baggy blue pajama pants with Eeyore on them, and a matching dark blue tank top, where as the smaller Asian woman wore a pair of blue jeans and a short, white tank.

"Hey, Miz, John. Have fun?"

The blond was grinning outright as she played with the Asian woman's black hair.

"Yeah, Michelle. We had a blast," Miz said, putting his thumbs up sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at the blond. "Hey, Gail," he stated. The Asian woman raised one arm lazily, leaning back on Michelle.

"Taker's looking for you. He's back in his office. Whatever's up with him, it's not good, so I wouldn't be a smartass tonight," Michelle advised, her gray eyes serious. Miz and John exchanged looks with one another and nodded, moving through the large, sprawling house, to a large, oak door. Miz knocked once, waiting, before he heard a booming, deep voice growl for him to enter. His hand hit the ebony doorknob and he turned it, swinging the door open.

The office they entered was filled to the brim. Across the back wall, with the exception of the back corner, where an oak door, identical to the one they just entered, was, were rows and rows of bookshelves. A window with a black curtain rested on the adjacent wall, and then more bookshelves lined the rest of the walls. In the center was a mahogany desk, a large, black chair pushed in to it. Papers and such were scattered on the desk. But the most filling thing in the large space was the six feet, ten inch man standing at the window, glaring through the black curtains at the moonlit yard.

"We're back, Taker," John said. Miz closed the door behind his partner and stood against the bookshelf next to the door. Taker turned, his black hair hanging down to his shoulders, and he looked at them.

"I assume you didn't fuck this up?" he growled. Miz said nothing, merely pulled out the bottle of gasoline, with the match in it, rubbing the back of his hand, where a black and purple tattoo rested. Taker crossed the room in a stride, grabbing the bottle. He was silent for a moment, before his eyes rolled in the back of his head, exposing only the whites of his eyes. After a moment, he put his hand down, the bottle clanking loudly on the desk. He looked at the two of them, his dark orbs returning to his eyes as he blinked.

"Good. Try to tone down the poetry next time," Taker growled. Miz smirked.

"What? You don't appreciate the irony of burning a man to death when he did the same?" Miz remarked. John sighed, but Miz was saved from Taker's response by the door swinging open.

In the doorway stood a man who was as tall as Miz. He wore a pair of black cargo jeans, and a black tank top. On one arm, he had a tattoo going all the way up his arm, from his fingers to behind his ear. The other arm had a black arm warmer stretched across the muscles there. His green eyes held a sort of soft sorrow, while his bright blue hair fell into his face. Taker growled and moved over to the smaller man.

"Melina and Adam are dead," he said, his voice touched by a deep Southern accent. Taker swore under his breath, looking at the small man.

"Where are they, Jeff?" he asked. Jeff sighed, turning and leaving the room and coming back with a man who looked similar to him. He had naturally dark brown hair and brown eyes, and wore a pair of blue jeans and button up black shirt. His hair was in a low ponytail, while Jeff's hung down to his shoulder. They returned carrying what looked like the mangled remains of a man and woman. Miz growled, but it was swallowed by the sound of Taker's growl.

"Miz, John, leave. You're excused for the night," Taker said, his voice a soft rumble as he took the woman out of the other man's arms. Jeff held the blond body to him as the brown haired man followed Miz and John.

"Matt, what happened?" Miz muttered. Matt looked at Miz, shaking his head.

"I don't know. Jeff came in, carrying them both, and put them down in the living room before he went to Taker's room," he said. Miz turned around, watching Taker put an arm around Jeff's shoulder as the door closed. John moved to the kitchen, allowing Matt and Miz to talk.

"God help whoever did it. Jeff's upset about it, meaning you and Taker are going to look for some serious revenge," Miz said. Matt cracked his knuckles, eyeing his blond friend.

"More than take care of it, Miz. We're going to get back at the bastards."

"Do you have a problem with that, Randy?"

The deep, dominating voice came from an extremely pale man who stood over the smaller, tanner man in front of him. The first man stood at an imposing six feet, nine inches. He wore a pair of black dress slacks and a white dress shirt over his large frame, his bi-colored eyes watching the man in front of him. Randy stood shorter than this man, but was still tall in his own way, coming in at a measly four inches shorter than his boss. He wore a black t-shirt, stretched across his muscled torso, and a pair of blue jeans. He growled softly, under his breath, before he spoke, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Yes, I have a problem with that. I work solo, Kane, or with Hunter only," he spat. Kane's blue and brown eyes narrowed.

"Now, you work with him. Bring him in."

With that, a large man came in, a white t-shirt stretched across his chest. He was leading a smaller, Mexican man. The Mexican was shorter than anyone else in the room, his five feet, six inch stature causing him to be loomed over by the six plus feet man in front of him. He wore a pair of blue jeans and black shirt, but his face was covered by a black and blue mask. His blue eyes moved back and forth between the three men, and he said nothing.

"Oh, God. A Mexican midget? Kane, I can't handle teaching babies how-"

He was cut off by a glare from the pale man in front of him.

"His name is Rey, and he is not a baby. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. You're just going to take him out on a few test missions to see if he can deal with doing what we do, or if I have to shift the roster again," he said. The tall, dirty blond haired man who led Rey in, smirked under the facial hair.

"Shut the fuck up, Hunter," Randy snapped. Hunter shook his head.

"What's wrong, Randy? Throwing a tantrum because you're not getting your way?" he asked. Rey watched as the two began to argue, turning his bright blue eyes to watch Kane, who sighed in frustration.

"Besides, Randy, I'm sure Rey can kick your ass," Hunter stated, crossing his arms over his chest. Randy's furious gray eyes moved to Rey, who simply looked up at the larger man, without blinking.

"Where do you come from? More importantly, can you speak English?" Randy asked. Rey frowned.

"I speak perfect English," Rey responded, his words laced with a soft, Mexican accent. "And I'm from San Diego."

"Hn," came Randy's response.

"Learn to work with him, Randy," Kane stated, leaning back in his plush, red chair. "Because he's your new partner. You two have a case now. There's a man who's been going around, mugging people and then killing them. He usually strikes around midnight, around seventy-third street. Go take care of it." Randy looked at Rey before walking out. Rey nodded to Kane, jogging out of the room to keep up with his new partner. Hunter, on the other hand, dropped into a chair, leaning back, lacing his fingers together as he sprawled out.

"Think that was a good choice?" Hunter asked, his brown eyes cutting to his boss. Kane shrugged slightly, obviously not giving a damn. He watched Hunter for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Hunter, I've got a job for you," he said a moment later. Hunter didn't shift, merely watched his boss with an expression of only mild interest. Kane continued. "But it's not the same as usual. You're going after three, instead of one, and these three aren't your typical cowards."

"Typical cowards? Are they cowards at all?" Hunter's question was sarcastic and rhetorical, so Kane ignored it.

"They're dirty cops who have been taking on sexual favors and hiring prostitutes for their own fun. They haven't killed anyone yet, but I'm sure they're getting close. Not only that, but there's a rumor going around that rape may be involved. If not now, then in the not so distant future. Take care of it."

Hunter watched his boss for a moment before a grin spread across his face. He stood, cracking his knuckles and nodded.

"I'll get on it now."

The deadly smile on Hunter's face was enough to reassure Kane – had he needed it – that he had picked the right man for the job.

**TBC**

**AN**: There you go. First chapter. NeroAnne, I hope it did justice for you. Review it and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, but don't flame me.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Uh… So, thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. I had this chapter planned out right after that one, but I haven't had a chance to update. On another, unrelated note, this story may not be as much about Miz and John as I had originally planned… My muses began to take some different sides. Anyway, concerning the spacing, I had some spaces put in on Word, but decided against letting me use them, so it took them out. I have a different idea now, so we'll see how well that works.

Also, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was an astonishing movie. My friend and I saw the midnight premiere. I got a picture of a hot guy cosplaying as Lucius. It made my night.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The man stood in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection. The small room was accessible only by the doorway to his right, and it wasn't locked, but he was confident no one would come in to see him swearing softly at his tie. His military-style haircut was the same as always, the brown hair seeming to stand at attention on his head, not one stray hair out of place. He wore a pair of black tux pants with a white dress shirt and black tux jacket over. The light blue tie wasn't staying in place like he had originally planned, and the knot had come undone, leaving the blue-eyed man with a look of exasperated frustration.

"Come on now… I can't do this right now…" he muttered under his breath.

"Do what?"

He spun on his heel, almost running into his brunette partner.

"Mickie! You scared me!" he accused, frowning. She smiled in response, and he sighed, turning back to the mirror. "I can't fight with my tie right now." Mickie's laugh answered him as she moved over, putting the black clutch she had in her hand on the small counter in front of them. The red dress she wore moved with her slender, muscled frame. The dress was low cut, black straps keeping it on her shoulders and then coming together in the center of her breasts, moving straight down her body. Different floral designs moved down the dress.

"John, one of these days, you'll give in and buy a clip-on tie," she teased him, her hands moving the blue tie around, tying it for him.

"I can't do that. Someone's going to go to pull it off or something, and I'll embarrass everyone, not to mention myself," John complained back, a friendly grin on his face. Mickie finished tying the tie and looked up at him, humor dancing in her brown eyes.

"Come on, John. Let's get you out there. You know how Dave gets when you get away from him for too long," she said, grabbing her clutch and touching one hand to her hair.

"Your hair looks great, Mickie. As for Dave, stop giving the guy such a hard time. He's nervous about working on murders now instead of working the drug cases," John said. Mickie threw John a look over her shoulder, laughing as she walked out, her silver heels clicking softly on the carpet. John followed her, and she took his arm in hers.

"You're just nervous because you have to accept another award for, oh, what was it? 'Going above and beyond the line of duty'? Yes, our little John's all grown up now," she laughed, pinching his cheek. He pulled away, grinning at her as well.

"Stop, Mickie, you're making me blush."

"Oh, John. That's not hard to do."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The tall, pale man entered the police headquarters the following morning, his bi-colored eyes narrowed in frustration. He ignored those that called out his name, attempting to get his attention, and moved to his office. Police Chief Glenn Jacobs was not a happy man this morning. He pushed open the door to the Homicide and Gang-Related Crimes office, or the HGR unit, and looked around until he saw the tall, brown haired man he had been looking for.

"Cena!"

His voice came out a booming bark of frustration, and the detective turned, looking at his boss and moving over. The brunette woman next to him raised an eyebrow in amusement and shook her head, turning to talk to the other tall man next to her. Glenn had to admit that allowing Dave Batista, the man who had gotten the most drug busts in his previous unit, to come over to HGR had been a good move. Batista was a little nervous, but he was handling himself well. Not only that, but with Mickie James there to keep him from getting into too much trouble, well… he'd be fine. Between Mickie and John, Batista had the best teachers on the force.

"Hey, Chief. What can I do for you?" John asked. Glenn looked away from Mickie and Batista, looking at John. He motioned for him to follow him to his office, and John did, his blue eyes showing only a trace of confusion.

"Two things, Cena. First off, how's Batista handling things?" Glenn asked once they were in his office. John sat down across from his chief, leaning back in his chair.

"Dave seems to be adapting well. Mickie's keeping a close eye on him when we're on the field, and I've been helping him in the office and outside too," he said. Glenn nodded.

"James comes from a long line of successful officers, and her father was a detective. You've made your way up from the bottom of the ranks, and you're one of our best cops. I've got high hopes for him, Cena. Just… watch out for that temper of his, alright? He was put on probation a few times in the narc unit because of that," Glenn warned.

"Between me and Mickie, I think we've got a good handle on him. I'm aware of his nickname too, due to his temper, but I really do think we've got it under control, Chief. I'll keep you updated," John promised. Glenn nodded before he tossed a file at John.

"Another body was found last night. It was burned, and found in an abandoned alley. Same MO: no fingerprints, no fibers, no nothing. We're assuming it's related to the gang cases either you or Michaels have been working. I'm calling Michaels in here next to give him the basic rundown, so I want you to know that if it's in his gang, you pass it along, got it?"

"Understood, Chief. Mickie and I will take Dave down to get a good look at the crime scene, and then we'll go ahead and start our investigation," John said, smiling as he stood up, taking the file with him out of the office. Glenn waited a moment, preparing himself to deal with the somewhat immature mind of his veteran detective, Shawn Michaels.

"MICHAELS! GET IN HERE!"

He sat back down as a tall, blond man came jogging in, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow, blue eyes swirling in confusion.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Sit down. I just gave Cena a file, and it may be your gang case. If it is, he's promised to hand it over to you. For now, he, James, and Batista are going to start investigating," Glenn explained. The blond head bobbed up and down as he nodded.

"Alright. Anything else, boss?" Shawn asked. Glenn sighed softly and nodded.

"How're your partners?"

"… Dylan and Dustin? Uh… a bit rag-tag and strange, but they're pulling it together," Shawn said. He knew of the strange behaviors of his partners. Dustin Rhodes, often called Goldust in reference to his favor for gold things, had been struck by lightning, twice, and often got into stuttering and twitching fits he couldn't break himself out of. However, he was a good shot and had a pretty good initial judge of character. Dylan Postl was a… well, he was a tiny man. He only stood at four feet, four inches tall, and had a thick Irish accent. He was called the Leprechaun, but preferred Hornswoggle. He claimed it was his Irish name, and Shawn didn't want to argue with him. The man was scary when he wanted to be, and even scarier when he was chasing you down. He may be small, but he was fast.

"Good. If they give you any problems, let me know," Glenn said, snapping Shawn out of his musings. Shawn nodded again, standing up and moving out of the office, back toward the teammates he had just been talking about.

"GET BACK TO WORK!" Shawn roared, scaring the two of them so bad that Dylan – Hornswoggle – started chasing the mail guy around the room, and Dustin – Goldust – got into a huge twitching fit so bad he scared the mail guy as he hit the corner of a desk and flipped right over it, Hornswoggle standing behind him, cackling. Shawn sighed, shaking his head and dropping into his seat. It _was_ funny though.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

That night, the moon was fading behind clouds. Each time the clouds moved, the moonbeams danced in and out of the shadows, illuminating and hiding different things. Two men stood side by side, watching an alleyway with a quiet, patient intensity.

One had dark purple hair, plus a strange design painted on his face in black and white face paint. He wore a pair of black jeans, a black, skin-tight tank top, and a pair of black and white arm warmers over both arms, the torn pieces of fabric stretching over his muscles, obscuring the view of his tattoo.

The other man had long, black hair that hung in strands to his shoulder. He wore a pair of black pants and a black, long-sleeved shirt. He had a long trench-coat over the entire thing and a black hat over it as well. He towered over his partner, but it didn't' seem to bother either of them.

"Are you sure this is where you saw them, Jeff?" the taller man asked, his voice a growl. Jeff growled back, the noise softer, angrier.

"Definitely, Mark," he replied, not moving his green eyes over to his partner and boss. No, he wanted to catch the bastards that had killed his two friends. Adam was… Adam was something else, but in the best, possible way. Melina was like his sister, and this wasn't going to go unanswered. The only time the boss came out was when someone in his own group had been killed. As for the face paint, well… Jeff had his own tendencies and rituals. He didn't wear the paint to just any kill. Just the ones where he had to avenge someone or something he held dear.

"There!"

Jeff's sudden proclamation caused Mark to move, his booted feet making no sound on the hard cement. Jeff's lighter frame made no noise as he agilely slid from shadow to shadow, his form making no noise, casting no shadow. That was why Jeff was the only one allowed to work on his own. He was capable of moving without a sound, only caught when he was ready to be.

The two they were following were both blond, a man and a woman. The man was relatively tall, as was the woman. The man's hair was spiked slightly, while the woman's hung down her back, resting approximately mid-back. The man gave off the very air of confidence, arrogance, something that would make Jeff over-react, Mark was sure. The woman was no better. Jeff dropped his slender frame off the last balcony of the fire escape, forgoing to the ladder hanging there. The couple stopped, immediately alert. Mark had to give them that: they were professionals.

"Why'd you do it?"

There was sorrow in the depths of that southern accent, and Mark caught the way Jeff unfolded himself to stand up. It was slow, deliberate, his hair falling in his face. The woman scowled, and the man stopped her from answering, one hand keeping her slightly behind him.

"Do what?" he sneered back. Jeff raised his eyes to meet the eyes of the man in front of him, green clashing with blue.

"Kill them. They meant you no harm. They wouldn't have killed you."

Mark sighed internally at the way that Jeff was playing these two. He didn't play with his victims often, but when he did, he wove a clever trap. Jeff Hardy used his entire body as a weapon, and there was no way that anyone, even Mark himself, could ignore that. The softly spoken words, the sorrow-filled tone, everything was designed to make them feel bad for what they had done. And it was all real, none of it an act.

"They were in the way. They had to be taken care of."

There was an underlying hint of French in the woman's voice as she spoke, and the man shot her a glare.

"Shut up, Maryse," he hissed under his breath. She nearly stomped on his foot, and probably would have, had he not moved it.

"Bite me, Chris," she hissed back.

"How about I end it for both of you?"

Jeff's voice had dropped, the sorrow giving way to pure, unadulterated rage. They looked at him, both of them surprised at the sudden change, and turned to run, only to run right into Mark. He looked down at them and blinked, but when his eyes opened, they had rolled back in his head, revealing the pure white eyes. He tensed his body, his thumb coming across his neck in a slashing motion, one that meant death. The only sounds heard next were Maryse's scream of fear, and then Chris' grunt of pain as Jeff ended them, moving forward in a quick blur of black and purple, knives sticking out from between his fingers.

He pulled his arms back out, watching the crimson drops slide off the edge of the blades, dropping to the ground around the pair. Mark shook his head, looking at Jeff.

"I'll take care of this. Get rid of the war paint, and then head out. You're looking for a trio of police officers that have been taking sexual favors, amongst other things, from anyone they can blackmail into it. You'll know them when you see them," Mark said. Jeff nodded, sliding the blades back into their hiding places. He turned to leave when Mark spoke again.

"And Jeff? Talk to Matt when you get back. He's worried about you after this whole thing."

Jeff paused to watch his boss for a moment before nodding and disappearing into the night.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

After the thing with Edge and Melina dying, Miz was confronted with a possibility that he hadn't considered before. Every other time they had gone out to take care of some disgusting loser that had threatened the lives of someone around them, it had been an easy task: scare them to death, and then make sure they were dead. But now…

Mark had taken Jeff out to take care of the bastards that killed Edge and Melina, and had ordered everyone else to stay put. No one was allowed to leave the house. Of course, Matt and his lover, Punk, had been all different kinds of interesting – the kind of interesting that made Miz want to puke on Punk – and Michelle and Gail had been the kind of interesting that made Morrison want to watch. Miz didn't understand John… The man was bi, leaning towards gay, but still liked watching Michelle and Gail make out. Of course, with Jeff gone, Miz was left to his own devices, which meant he paced the entire time.

Mark had returned, alone, and informed them that a rival gang had killed Edge and Melina. The members of the Undertaker's gang had already known that they fought viciously against the members of their rival gang, led by a man known only as Kane, but they had never come to the conclusion that it would get as violent as it had. Mark informed them that every one of them was now at risk, since they had to take care of the members named Chris and Maryse. Miz was so sick of the whole thing, he figured it was time to go for a walk and get the whole thing thought about good and hard.

So, he told Mark he was going for a walk, Mark told him to arm himself and tell John, so Miz told John, armed himself, and went outside. He took a left from the house, jogging across the street, and moved on, walking on the path he had always walked on when he needed to clear his head. It was so routine now, he could walk it without paying attention to where he was going and still get back without a problem. However, something was different tonight…

"Hey! You! You wanna come over here and take care of my _problem_?"

The voice caused Miz to pause mid-step and turn, his blue eyes watching the man standing there. He was covered from head to toe in filth, wearing torn and dirty clothing. It was obvious the 'problem' he was referring to was in his pants, seeing as there was a large hole with which his erection stuck out. Miz rolled his eyes, sighing and continued walking, ignoring the man in general. However, the click of a gun, the safety being taken off, alerted Miz more than he wanted to admit. He paused, turning back to the man, who had a .9 mm gun pointed at Miz's face. He growled.

"I asked if you wanted to take care of my problem," he hissed. Miz raised an eyebrow, looking the man in the eyes.

"I obviously don't give a flying fuck about your problem. You can deal with it on your own," Miz sneered back. The gun pressed against his forehead, which didn't scare Miz as much as piss him off.

"Too damn bad, pretty boy. You're going to take care of it, or I'm going to blow a hole in that pretty little head of yours," the filthy man sneered. Miz was about to react when he heard the click of another gun.

"Put your hands in the air and step away from him!"

The strong voice shouted at the filthy man, and Miz looked over, watching the muscular man across the alley from him. He had brown hair, styled in a military-style haircut, and bright blue eyes. He had a standard, police-issue Glock pointed at the pervert, who turned, swearing when he saw the cop's gun.

"Shit, copper. I was just tryin' to get him to help me," he said, raising his hands. The cop didn't even blink.

"Drop the gun, and kick it over here," he stated, his eyes narrowed. The pervert swore again, kneeling to put the gun down, which he did kick over to the cop. Miz was silently evaluating the two of them. He knew the pervert, who he assumed was also a junkie, had a knife hidden on him. The cop, on the other hand, probably only had that gun, maybe one more hidden away.

The cop started to make his way over, his steps cautious, the gun still pointed. Miz leaned against the wall, his black zip-up sweatshirt pressing against the corner as he dropped his hands into the pockets of his denim jeans. The cop got to the junkie, grabbing one wrist and moving to put the silver cuffs on him, only to see the flash of the blade. The junkie managed to get it into the cop's shirt, piercing fabric and flesh around his abdomen, before he pushed off, smirking like mad, tossing the knife back and forth. Miz, obviously forgotten about, moved, blending in with the shadows.

"Ahh, good little cop. You just have to help the underdog, don't you?" the junkie asked, his voice going to a high-pitched cackle. John hissed, one hand holding the bleeding wound in his abdomen, while the other watched him. That surprise attack caused him to drop his gun, leaving him unarmed against a junkie with a knife. The man was obviously still on a high, his pupils dilated and his mannerisms a little jerky. Either way, he was still dangerous.

"Put the knife down," John said, his voice helpful, kind. The junkie snorted and dove at John again, causing the police officer to jump back, dodging the blade of the knife again.

"I think not. I'm going to enjoy bleeding you dry," he cackled. He shot forward, moving faster than John would have given him credit for. The knife grazed his shirt once more before the junkie managed to get in a hit to his side again, making the cut a lot bigger, causing more blood to flow. John hit his knees, grunting in pain, before he saw the dirty sneakers of the junkie enter his vision. He looked up, blue eyes starting to glaze over with blood loss and pain.

"Haha… I'm going to enjoy killing a cop," the junkie stated, giggling again. He started to lean forward to kill John, but a gunshot ripped through the night. John wasn't sure if it would hit until he heard the junkie yell out in pain, and blood exploded from his side. Another shot followed, then one more directly after that. The junkie dropped, a bleeding wound in his abdomen, chest, and head. John looked up, seeing the man he had originally intended to help, his gloved hands holding the police-issue Glock, and that was all he saw before he passed out.

Miz sighed as the cop fell, kneeling and putting the gun back on the cop before examining the cut. He ripped part of the cop's shirt – his own shirt was expensive and brand name, so it wasn't getting ripped – before he wrapped the cop's cut up, and picked him up, struggling for a moment under the dead weight of a muscled man, before he started carrying him back to the house. Mark was _not_ going to be happy about this…

**TBC**

**AN**: There is chapter two. It's longer than chapter one was, something I'm proud of.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: Of course I took your random ideas into consideration. You're a muse, after all. I couldn't just ignore you like that. Thanks for the fave, and the spacing should be dealt with now.

_**NeroAnne**_: I laughed as I read your review. I was excited just that you reviewed, so I'm happy it was funny too. I'm glad you already liked the pairings. That makes it all the more promising. I picked Nip/Tuck because it's one of Miz's real-life favorite shows. I laughed at the thought of it too, but I couldn't resist throwing it in there. I'm glad you liked it, and of course Rey isn't a Mexican midget. Randy's just being an asshole. Thanks for the review!

_**Seraphalexiel**_: I'm so sorry if I spelled this wrong. I usually do ignore the flamers, but sometimes they piss me off. I'm sure you understand. Thank you very much.

_**Raven_serotonin**_: Spacing should be dealt with now, thanks. I tried the dashes in Word, and it turned them into these long lines, and I thought it would work, but decided against it. Thanks for the review.

_**Lichtblick**_: Thank you. Well, here's more, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

**AN**: Thanks to all of you who reviewed, and a special thanks to both **Kiharu_Aroukii** for the ideas and motivation to keep me going on, and to **NeroAnne**, for letting me use her idea. Please, leave a review and let me know what you think!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **I'm sorry this chapter took so long. Since I'm about to start college and working, my time is going to be scattered. I'm going straight into working full-time, so I don't really know how much Ill be able to hang around. I'll do my best to keep up semi-routine updates for you all. Also, Kiharu is gone, and she was helping me keep my inspiration up. To those of you who review and actually have wrestling stories, I may end up reading them soon to try to help get inspiration for this one.

Also, I have a few PWP's in the works, just random little stories I may be posting up here (as one-shots or drabbles). If I don't post them here, I'll let you know, and you can have a link on how to read them. We'll see what happens. Anyway, here's chapter three.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

"Alright, kid. Here's part two."

Gray eyes fell on the masked face of the man standing next to him. The small Mexican had been rather quiet for most of their journey, and Randy couldn't say that it bothered him. Rey seemed like a man of few words, though he usually spoke them to create an impact. Randy couldn't say that bothered him either.

Last night, the two had gone out, getting to know each other, and getting to know their target. He was a man named Robert Hereford, who had stalked, chased, and cornered a young mother and her twin children. Once he had them in a corner, he killed the mother first, allowing her children to see the carnage, and then had killed the sobbing, screaming children. Apparently, he had done it with brute strength. While Randy didn't particularly like beating the hell out of someone with his bare hands, it was an interesting idea that one man could be so powerful.

Rey had listened to all the information presented without even batting an eyelash, though his icy blue eyes seemed to flame up with some emotion. Randy didn't know the man's past, but maybe he'd talk to Kane about it later...

"He's over there," Rey said, snapping Randy out of his thoughts. Randy looked over, seeing the man standing a few blocks away, reading a paper.

The man looked older than he really was, his hair a light gray color. He had blue eyes, and was overweight, which probably explained how he was capable of beating that family to death. Randy watched the man look around nervously before he turned a corner. Oh...? There was something else to this wonderful puzzle? Just great.

"C'mon," Randy stated, silently leading the small Mexican to the alley that Robert had just disappeared into. He had considered asking his new partner what the story behind the intricately designed mask was, but Randy figured he'd probably find out rather quickly, if Rey didn't just tell him on his own.

Upon entering the alley, Randy and Rey saw the man – Robert – standing over two bodies. Randy frowned, motioning for Rey to silently get closer. Rey nodded, his black pants and shirt – and mask, Randy amended to himself – allowed him to blend in almost perfectly with the darkness of the alley. Randy, on the other hand, went ahead and silently moved forward, trusting both Kane's judgment of this small Mexican and the small Mexican to keep from attacking him. As he closed the distance between himself and his target, he swore softly to himself, eying the two blond bodies lying in a bloody pile on the floor.

One was a thin, blond woman. She wore a black, short, designer skirt with a matching black halter that revealed her bloodied midriff. Her blond hair was stained with red, and hung over part of her face, but it didn't obscure her face from Randy's view. Next to her was a taller, blond man. His hair was slightly spiked in the front, and his sky blue, long-sleeved designer shirt was stained through with bright, crimson blood. His designer blue jeans were only slightly dirtier than usual, but Randy felt the rage welling up in him. He knew that Robert couldn't have possibly done that. However, he didn't get a chance to say, or do, anything. In the next instant, a loud yelp of pain and surprise shocked Randy into pulling the long knife out of it's holster under his button-up black shirt.

What he saw was Rey, his legs around the man's neck, hurl him with sheer brute strength over Randy's head, his hands in the air – for balance, Randy guessed – and right into a wall. With a feral growl, Rey raised his head from the position he had, resembling a just-released wild cat about to attack. He pushed off the ground, landing on Rob's stomach, punching into the man's face with force that honestly surprised Randy. The veteran gang member stayed back and watched as Rey literally beat this man's face in. Once he was finished, he was standing next to the man's body, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Randy raised one eyebrow and waited, his body tensed to attack if he needed to. After all, his nickname in the gang was The Viper, and not without reason.

Rey paused for a moment before turning his eyes back to Randy. During this rampage, Randy had noticed that Rey's unusually bright eyes had darkened to a black color. He now saw that they were the same bright, icy blue they had been at first, so he assumed that Rey was alright now.

"Not too bad, tough guy," Randy stated, his tone mildly mocking. He knelt down, picking up the man's body, holding it over his shoulder. "Pick up her body and come on. The cops can piece him back together," Randy ordered, nodding slightly to the now-dead Robert. Rey nodded, silently picking up the blond woman's body and holding it to him, following Randy. Randy sighed to himself. Kane wasn't going to like this...

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The tall, bald man sat in the office chair, watching the shorter, buffer man without blinking. His bi-colored eyes rested on the bodies that were being held by his smaller, Mexican partner, and sighed softly, his large pointer fingers coming up to rub his temples.

"Rey, take the bodies to Cody and Ted," Kane ordered, raising his mismatched eyes to the new recruit, who nodded. "They'll deal with Chris and Maryse." Once Rey left, the mismatched eyes moved to the senior member. "What?"

"I was just wondering where you found that delightful piece of flesh," Randy stated, gray eyes narrowed dangerously. Kane leaned back, shaking his head.

"I know you think you and Hunter are the ultimate bad asses, but you're not. Rey Mysterio is a Berserker. Now that you have been told what he is, it's time to explain who he is. Rey's from another species altogether. The Berserkers are bought and sold back and forth to whoever can afford them. The practice went out of style around the same time slavery did, but it was never officially banished because they weren't slaves. They were bought and kept as bodyguards, for a good portion of the 17 and 1800s. Since then, they've gone out on their own and become freelance. However, I saved Rey's life, and he's doing this to pay back the Life Debt he owes me," Kane explained. Randy frowned.

"Life Debt? Have you been reading Harry Potter again?" Randy sneered. Kane growled, but continued his explanation.

"No. You wonder why he wears the mask? It's to hide the scars that Berserkers achieve in order to completely accept their power. His face is horribly mangled, all except his eyes and mouth. Now, Randy, when a Berserker sees blood, their blood rushes and they get an adrenaline rush. A Berserker's adrenaline rush means that they revert back to their natural instincts, which means they will attack whatever happens to be right in their eyesight. Luckily, tonight you weren't in Rey's eyesight. For this reason, I suggest you stay behind him when you two are on a mission. You did it with Hunter, so you can do it again."

Silence greeted Kane's statement, and The Viper's eyes stayed narrowed. He stood up and left the room without a comment, preferring to keep to himself on his own feelings for the moment. Kane leaned back in his chair, sighing softly before he grabbed his black leather coat and put it on, grabbing his gloves as well.

_I think it's time you and I have a little chat, my friend..._ he thought, closing the door behind him and leaving his own house.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The HGR unit was buzzing, with phones going off and tips pouring in. Reporters were emailing, calling, texting, doing whatever they possibly could to get some kind of information on the latest of the gang killings. Dave sighed, rubbing his head. The Animal, as he had been called in the Narcotics Unit, couldn't take much more of this. John hadn't been in yet this morning – which Dave wasn't sure if that was normal or not – and Mickie was off taking care of a press conference. Shawn was there, but Dave wasn't sure what he though of the eccentric man. Shawn honestly scared him a little... The DC native thought the self-proclaimed Heart-Break Kid was bi-polar, but saying that to his face would have risked a midget and a freak's wrath, so Dave just let it go.

Right as Dave was about to call Mickie yet again, the only female in the unit came in, her face worried, her hair wind blown. She threw off her coat, ignoring Dave and Shawn's questions of what was wrong, and threw open the door to Chief Jacobs' office.

"Chief!"

"James, you'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting me," the chief growled, raising his eyes to her.

"John's disappeared."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

"This is not going to end well..."

Gail's comment was seconded by everyone in the house as Miz walked through, holding a body in his arms. It was obvious that the man in Miz's arms was still breathing, but there was a spot that was bright red with blood. Miz ignored them, turning his blue eyes to two males with dark hair.

"John, Punk. You two mind helping me with him after I talk to 'Taker?" he asked. His partner and Punk exchanged looks and nodded.

"Give him a minute though, Miz," Punk said, moving to allow Miz to put the body of the man down on the couch. "Matt is in there. He's worried about Jeff."

Miz nodded and put the body down, turning to watch as John went into the other room, no doubt gathering the materials they would need to stitch up the cop Miz found. Miz sighed, taking off his fedora and putting it on the hook. He rubbed his head, causing the faux-hawk to move slightly. Gail shook her head, looking at Miz.

"Miz, we all know how you can get, but I don't think Mark is going to appreciate this very much," she said, her voice soft. Michelle, who was holding the smaller, Asian woman, nodded in agreement.

"I know, Gail. But... He saved my ass, at the cost of his own. He didn't have to, and I want to thank him for it."

"So give him a card," came John's sarcastic response. Miz glared at his partner and shook his head. "He doesn't have to get dragged into our business. He's a cop, for God's sake!"

Gail's sharp intake of air and Michelle's almost violent curse was enough to tell Miz that the two women hadn't paid much attention to the cop. Gail stood, making her way over to the cop and kneeling in front of him, watching him closely. She shook her head, taking the stuff from John.

"Don't worry, Miz. Punk and I will take care of him," she said, looking up at Miz. He nodded, and John shook his head, leaving the room. Michelle stayed behind Gail, looking up at Miz. She was about to say something, but was cut off as a door slammed somewhere behind them.

"Matt's done with Mark, it seems," Punk said. Miz nodded and moved over to the door of their leader, knocking once before letting himself in. The large man looked up from a piece of paper and leaned back, sighing.

"What is it now, Miz?" he asked, his voice clearly frustrated.

"I brought a cop here."

The frustration went to anger in the span of a few nano-seconds, and Mark stood up, looming over Miz.

"You did _what_?" he growled. Miz stood his ground, meeting the dark eyes of the leader with his own blue ones.

"He took a knife for me. I was in an alley, some asshole tried to get me to suck him off, and the cop showed up. He was about to get killed and I shot the bastard before I brought the unconscious cop back here. He's still out, and Gail and Punk are stitching him up," Miz said. Mark growled to himself, moving away from Miz and rubbing his eyes.

"First Matt comes in here and says I took his little brother away from him, and now you drop a bombshell about a goddamn cop being here. He can stay here, Miz, but he's not leaving until I say so. And you'd _damn_ sure better make sure that he stays in the basement until we think it's safe to let him go. When we do, you're going to knock his ass out and take him home. If he finds out where we are, I'm personally going after your ass. Got it?"

Miz watched Mark sit down silently, nodding once. Mark waved a hand, and Miz walked out, seeing Punk sitting with Matt, who wasn't looking at anyone, and Gail was still sitting over the cop, having just finished stitching him up. She wrapped a bandage around the cut and looked up at Miz.

"Don't move him around too much, and make him stay on that bed downstairs. If you want, I'll help you out. Michelle and I have a bit of a break from our missions for now, so I'll keep him company when you're gone," she offered. Michelle's eyes narrowed and she watched Miz. Miz ignored her and nodded, sighing softly.

"Thanks Gail. I'd really appreciate it, but I don't want Michelle pissed at me again. When she walks around with that damn bamboo stick, she hits hard and it hurts like hell," he said. Gail stopped and turned to look at Michelle, her eyes narrowing in a glare. Michelle sighed and put her hands up.

"Alright, Gail. I'll leave him alone this time," she said. Gail shook her head and looked back at Miz.

"Good. Come on. Let's get him downstairs. He should be waking up soon," she said. Miz nodded, lifting the man's body and carrying him downstairs gently, Gail following. Once the two were downstairs, Gail moved the blankets back from the bed, and only then did Miz notice that she had taken off the cop's shirt to get the bandages on. Well, he was going to be good and confused when he woke up. Miz put the cop down and then Gail put the blanket over his wound, allowing it to rest just under his pectorals.

"Come and sit down, Miz. I'll go and get you something to eat, okay?" she offered. Miz nodded, sitting in the chair next to the bed, leaning back and watching the man as Gail ran upstairs. Miz began to think about what was going to happen with this man, how much he would be told. Miz couldn't deny he was attractive, had a sort of athletic, all-American boy look about him. Usually, Miz wasn't that into that kind of thing, but it looked good on him. And Miz distinctly remembered those blue eyes...

Gail came down a minute later, interrupting his thoughts with a plate of lasagna. At Miz's look, she smiled and shook her head.

"I made it, so it's safe," she said. Miz nodded and began to eat, finishing about half of it before setting it aside. The cop would need something to eat too...

Almost as if he knew Miz was thinking about him, the cop stirred, groaning in pain. His eyes fluttered open, revealing the bright blue that Miz remembered.

"No," Gail said, her voice soft. "You can't sit up, officer. Your wound will reopen."

The cop's eyes fell on Gail, and he nodded, staying down on the bed. Gail spoke again, asking him what his name was.

"John," the cop rasped, clearing his throat. Gail passed him a cup of water, which he drank. "John Cena."

"It's nice to meet you, John. I'm Gail Kim, and this is Miz."

Miz looked at the cop as he turned his eyes to him, and raised a hand in greeting. The cop frowned slightly.

"You're the guy from the alley," John said. Miz nodded, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah, and you saved my ass. Thanks," Miz said. Neither Miz nor Gail mentioned that Miz could have held his own. John nodded and leaned back against the pillows, sighing softly.

"It's my job," he said. Miz looked at Gail, who smiled and left the room.

"You probably want to know where you are, and I can't tell you. All I can say is that you're safe here, for now. You'll stay here until your wound is recovered, and then I'll take you home," he said. John frowned, looking at Miz.

"Why? Shouldn't I go to a hospital?"

"Gail's a doctor, and she'll take care of your wound. Once you've gotten the okay from her, I'll handle getting you back home."

John frowned, thinking this all over, knowing he couldn't ask where he was. He nodded slightly, and leaned back, watching Miz.

"So... your name is Miz, huh? Interesting name..."

"It's a nickname. My real name is Mike," he said, leaning back in the chair. John nodded.

"I like Mike," he replied. "It's easy to remember." Miz rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his face.

"And rather ordinary. Call me Miz, for now." John nodded and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"You could have handled that guy all on your own, couldn't you?" John asked. Miz blinked, but shrugged.

"More than likely. I have a bit of experience dealing with people like that," he said. John looked at him with a frown.

"What do you mean?"

Miz knew that this was getting into territory he couldn't tell the cop, not yet. Miz shook his head, waving a hand.

"That's a story for another time, officer," Miz replied.

"Detective," John corrected, closing his eyes. Miz waited a moment before nodding.

"Detective," he amended, watching John. A slight smile came across his face.

"Call me John."

Miz nodded to himself as John fell asleep again, and he leaned back against the seat. Ah, hell. Things were really going to get interesting now...

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Jeff watched in the shadows, having washed off his face paint and left on the same clothes he had killed Chris and Maryse in. He found the trio that Mark had been talking about, though it hadn't exactly been hard. He was friends with most of the hookers and prostitutes in the area. They thought he was cute, and he offered them protection. All they had to really do was just come and find him, and he usually did a pretty good job of keeping them save. He frowned as he saw the trio that Mark had been talking about. They were standing in front of one of his best hooker friends, and she didn't look all that happy. He moved in closer, trying to get a better ear for what they were saying.

"... All I want is a little quickie for me and my friends," the tallest of the three said. His brown hair was slicked back, with just the front spiked up slightly. He had piercing brown eyes, and wore a black t-shirt with some kind of intricate white design on it. Jeff placed his height at... approximately 6' 5"? Jeff wasn't really good with that kind of thing. Next to him, on his right, was another man. He was much shorter, around 5'9". His head was almost completely shaved bald, except for the front part of his hair, which was spiked up. Jeff couldn't understand why the hell someone would do that – mainly because it looked ugly as hell – to themselves, but he didn't question it. The man was going to be dead soon anyway. Jeff couldn't see him very well, but he saw the woman pretty well. She was on the left of the tall man, closest to Jeff. She had blond hair with pink streaks in it, and wore a pair of black, tight pants and a bright pink shirt. Jeff couldn't stand it, but he listened a little bit longer.

"I mean, it's not like you don't already do this," the tall one said. "I mean... My friend Tyson here has seen you blow some guy in the front seat of his car." The tall one motioned to the short male when he said this. The woman tugged on the taller man's shirt, pressing her body against his.

"Come on, David... I want her... She's so pretty," the woman said. David chuckled slightly, patting the woman's hair.

"Now, Natalya... We must be patient," he said, looking back at the prostitute. She had long blond hair that was pulled back in a high ponytail, reaching down to her waist. Her eyes were a vivid green, and she looked rather nervous.

"What... What if I say I don't want to...?" she asked, phrasing it as though she was still considering it. Jeff sighed softly and began to slink forward, glad these three were so into the woman – her name was Jessie – to even bother thinking about paying attention to him. He was still pissed over Adam and Melina's deaths to think about being as quiet as he should.

"Well, then we'll have to put you in jail, won't we. We're cops," Tyson said, grinning at the woman. She sighed softly, dropping her head in defeat. Jeff moved into the light, standing behind Jessie. The trio frowned, and the little blond woman let out a particularly nasty curse.

"Who the hell are you?" David growled. Jessie whirled around, and sighed in relief as she saw Jeff. He smiled at her, hugging her tightly, and then watched as she ran away. He had put himself in a particularly risky situation, seeing as the trio had cornered Jessie.

"Look what he did, David! He scared her off!" Natalya whined. David cracked his knuckles, his lip coming up in a sneer.

"We'll have to teach him a lesson them, won't we...?" asked David. Natalya giggled slightly as the trio came in on him. Jeff hid his hands, sliding the blades through the gaps in his fingers, preparing to honestly lose his life if something went wrong. However, something completely unexpected happened.

"Well, well, well... What have we here...?"

The deep voice came from behind the cops, who turned and growled. The man standing in front of them was tall, though shorter than the tallest cop. He was extremely buff, like a body builder, and had a gray t-shirt stretched across his muscles. He wore a pair of blue jeans and black boots, and held a sledgehammer in one hand. He had dirty blond hair, which hung down to his shoulders, and looked wet. Whoever the man was, he looked pissed.

"Mind your own goddamn business!" Tyson growled, running forward to hit the man. The man smirked slightly, the sledgehammer coming up to hit him in the stomach. Tyson grabbed his stomach and dropped to the ground. The man raised the hammer above his head and dropped it, hard, on Tyson's spine. A yelp of pain was all they heard before the hammer came down on Tyson's head. Natalya screamed his name, but she was cut off as Jeff moved, his blades sinking into the flesh of her back, then moving up her spine, cutting her open. She fell to the ground next to Tyson. David looked at the duo, and then tried to run. The man and Jeff exchanged a look and nodded, a silent, mutual agreement of camaraderie met as they moved after the man. Jeff virtually appeared in front of him, and the mysterious man stayed behind him. David turned around and saw the mystery man, and then looked back at Jeff.

"Please... please, I won't... Please!"

The man's begging was cut off by Jeff's knives digging into his throat, and the sledgehammer hitting his skull simultaneously. He slumped to the ground, and Jeff looked at the man, his knives dripping with blood.

"I'm Hunter," the man said, his face turning to a grin. Jeff blushed faintly, glad it was dark so that the man, Hunter, couldn't see him. God, this guy was _hot_!

"Jeff," Jeff stated, smiling slightly. Hunter grinned, allowing the top of the sledgehammer to drop to the ground. Jeff watched as the man offered a hand, and he accepted it, but that was when he noticed the intricate 'K' that was tattooed on the inside of the man's wrist. Jeff's eyes widened, and he looked back at the hazel eyes of the man, who had just noticed the 'UT' design that was tattooed on his wrist. They stared at each other for a moment before Hunter leaned forward, pressing his lips to Jeff's.

His lips were soft, warm, and Jeff became pliant at his touch. A soft moan escaped the younger man's lips as Hunter deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to taste Jeff's lips. Jeff felt his mouth start to open of its own volition, but Hunter pulled away before it could get any further.

"I'll see you around, Jeff," he said, licking his lips before he turned and began to walk away. Jeff stared after him, his eyes remaining on the corner that Hunter had turned even when the man was out of eyesight. One hand came up and touched his lips. He'd never felt that way before, even with Adam, who he had thought he'd been madly in love with...

Jeff bit his lip thoughtfully before he turned, walking down the alley, his body consumed by the darkness of the night.

**TBC...**

**AN**: I'm actually really proud of this one... It took longer to get out than the others, but I really liked it. The plot is starting to pick up, so I can't wait to find out what happens. Chapter two was approximately 4,000 words. Chapter three is approximately 4,500 words, at least on Word it is. always changes how many it is.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: Bah. Stupid ties. You know I can't tie one. As for Defro, we talked about that already, so I'm not mentioning it again. Here's three.

_**NeroAnne**_: Actually, that was my original intention, to make them just like siblings. They actually have a relationship similar to me and my brother. I adore Hornswoggle and Goldust. There was no way I could possibly leave the two of them out! Haha. Thanks so much for that. As for the sex, that... will be coming soon, I'm sure. I just have to figure out exactly when.

_**Seraphalexiel**_: Your name is a little funky, but I like it. Very unique. He did save Mizzie's life. As for moles in the police department... It's definitely a possibility. Thanks for the review.

**AN**: Alright, everyone. Thanks for the reviews. I'll get chapter four up soon, I hope. Tomorrow's my birthday, so I get a break then.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**AN**: Hey everyone. Little sooner new chapter than I thought I would have up, so this is good. I've been working out the kinks of my ideas, but I think this will work this time around. Umm... Who saw that Shaq episode of RAW? Pretty amazing. Christina and Fat Boy... Ahhh, such hilarity.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The last time the two figures had had a meeting of these proportions, people had died. The people who lost their lives that night hadn't done anything wrong, except being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or so he had to tell himself to get past the guilt. The taller of the two wasn't that much taller than his brother, but he held a sort of strength and intelligence over the younger leader. His brother was a bit slower, mentally, but he was more cunning, a much eviler brain dwelt in his head.

"Mark," Kane said, his bi-colored eyes narrowed in frustration and agitation. Mark snorted at the greeting, rolling his eyes as he put his hands in the pockets of his long black coat.

"Don't play games with me, Glenn," Mark growled. Kane met it with a growl of his own.

"I told you: my name is Kane."

"No, your name is Glenn Jacobs, _Chief_, and I'm not oblivious to the game you've been playing. You're dealing yourself a losing hand, brother," Mark retorted, anger causing his eyes to flash. Kane snorted, cracking his neck.

"You didn't agree to this meeting to scold me about my life choices, Mark," he growled. Mark watched him silently before he spoke again.

"You're right, I didn't. I could care less how you decide to fuck up your own life. However, if one of your brats ever attacks another one of mine without provocation, you'll never have to worry about your game being found out again. You won't have anymore brats to worry about being found," Mark threatened. Kane's eyes flashed, turning an almost identical shade of black as he moved closer to his brother.

"If you continue to threaten my team, Mark, you'll find yourself all alone."

"It seems we're in agreement that we don't want our children messed with. I don't want to, but I will make this a war, Glenn."

"Too late, Mark. It was a war the moment you sought out Chris and Maryse," Kane stated, turning to walk away. Mark stopped him with only a sentence.

"Fine, Glenn. But remember one thing: You can't hide from the Deadman."

By the time Kane turned around to retort to his brother's remark, Mark had already disappeared into the night.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

When Hunter returned to the house that night, he found Randy sitting on the stairs, only a lamp on. He held a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the way the light hit the amber liquid as it swirled inside the crystal glass. The blond frowned, kneeling in front of his old partner.

"Randy, what's on your mind?" Hunter asked, the sledgehammer still in his hand. Randy glanced at Hunter, snorting to himself before he took a drink of the whiskey, standing and motioning for Hunter to follow him. The older man followed his friend up the stairs and into a room.

Hunter identified it as Randy's room, though nothing had changed from the last time he had been in it. The walls were still bare, the bed still with the same red sheets it had held before. The nightstand still held only a lamp and a picture of his wife and daughter, Alanna. Hunter knew enough about Randy's past to know that both wife and child were dead. They had died when Alanna was almost two, and Randy had been forced to watch the whole thing.

Hunter's thoughts were interrupted by Randy sitting on the bed. Hunter pulled the chair up from the corner, sitting in front of Randy, watching him silently.

"We found Chris and Maryse, or their bodies, to be more exact. They were killed by Taker's gang," Randy said. Hunter frowned. They had lost teammates before without Randy taking it this personally. Besides, no one had really liked Maryse all that much... Chris had some friends, but Randy wasn't as close with Chris as he was with some of the other members.

"And...?" Hunter asked. Randy took another drink of the whiskey before putting the heavy crystal glass on the nightstand, in front of the picture of Sam and Alanna.

"I took Rey with me. He didn't react to their bodies as much as the blood on the ground. He's a Berserker, Hunter. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah. I ran into one a few years ago. Nasty little bastards," Hunter replied. Randy looked up, eyes narrowed.

"I'm going to have to sit back behind him so my ass doesn't get kicked," Randy stated. Hunter nodded, stretching slightly.

"I know that pisses you off, Randy, but it'll be better than letting a Berserker get a hold of you. I've never heard of anyone who survives a Berserker's attack. Besides, it's not like you'll never be able to do anything. Just until Rey gets the hang of dealing with them. Then, you'll be able to go on solo assignments again, and so will he," he explained. Randy nodded slightly, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees through his blue jeans. He wore no shirt, and his bare chest seemed to naturally glow in the soft light of the dim lamp.

"What's on your mind, H?" Randy asked, watching him. "You've got that look in your eye. What the hell did you do?" Hunter grinned at him, shrugging and leaning back.

"I went out to take care of those cops, the ones Kane told me to. They'd cornered a prostitute, and then a little guy came out and distracted them so that she could run away. They cornered him, and then I interrupted. We killed them together," Hunter said, his eyes flaring. Randy knew of how hot that got Hunter... The first time they had killed together, it had been... Well, it had been hard and rough, but very enjoyable.

"And...?" Randy asked, mimicking Hunter's earlier reaction.

"He is a member of Taker's gang. His name's Jeff."

"You let him live?"

Randy hissed this at Hunter, shooting to his feet. His gray eyes were narrowed, even though Hunter had a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Hunter, you can't just go around fucking with anyone and everyone. This guy is obviously good if he's dealing with sex crimes like you. You..." Randy paused, his narrowed eyes turning on his best friend. "You didn't do anything else, did you?"

"I kissed him."

"God _damn_ it, Hunter! That's sealing the deal. Now he's going to come and find you. What happens if it goes bad? Are you going to be able to kill him?"

"Randy, would you relax? He knows my name, but not how to get a hold of me. He knows I work for Kane, but he doesn't seem that bothered by it. I know I'm an idiot, and I know you're thinking it, but you won't tell Kane. Just give me time to figure this whole thing out. I'll take care of it," Hunter said. Randy exhaled in a growl and picked up his whiskey, downing the remaining half of the glass without expression.

"Fine, Hunter. I won't tell. But if this gets too out of hand, you _have_ to deal with it," Randy said. Hunter smirked and stood, nodding.

"I'll take care of things, Randy."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

John woke up in the basement again, only a few hours – or so he estimated – after he had originally fallen asleep. Sitting next to him was the guy – Mike. Miz! Miz, John reminded himself – that had taken care of him after he got stabbed. Sure, he had only been stabbed because he was protecting this guy, who ended up saving him, but John didn't see it that way. He was grateful this guy had been around to help him.

Miz's blue eyes moved over to John as he started to sit up, and one warm hand rested on his chest, keeping him from sitting up.

"Don't think about it, John," Miz said, causing an unnoticeable shudder to move through the wounded detective. John didn't even know why he had shuddered, but was grateful that Miz hadn't noticed. "If you get up before Gail has another chance to look at your cut, I'm risking a beating with a bamboo stick from a psychopathic bitch."

John stared at Miz for a moment in confusion before shaking his head.

"Can I have some water, Miz?" he asked, watching the other man. Miz nodded and stood, walking to a corner of the basement and grabbing a bottle of water from what John assumed was a mini-fridge. He couldn't see very well from his position on the bed. Miz came back, opening the bottle and helping John keep his head up to drink it.

"How you feelin'?" Miz asked. John swallowed the water and let Miz take the bottle back before responding.

"A little sore, but not too bad," John replied, offering a smile. Miz nodded, putting the bottle down. "I have a feeling you use this room down here a lot."

"Sometimes, when one of us is wounded," Miz confirmed with a shrug. He frowned, watching John. "Why? Is there some kind of problem with that?"

"No," John said, shaking his head. "Just a feeling. So, Miz, if I'm stuck here for a while, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

"Yeah, right. You first," Miz said, his tone sarcastic. He wasn't expecting John to do it? Okay.

"Okay then. I was born in Massachusetts. My dad worked in a factory in West Newbury, and my mom was a high school English teacher. I have four brothers, and they're all lovable pains in the ass. In high school, I played football, which got me a scholarship. I was center for the team. From there, I decided that being a cop was the thing I needed to do. I moved here and worked my way up from street patrol to a detective," John said. Miz listened quietly to his story, looking at the detective.

"What unit?" Miz asked quietly.

"Homicide and Gang Related Crimes," John stated proudly. Miz shifted slightly, and then looked at John, reluctantly beginning to tell his own story.

"I was born in a small town outside of Cleveland, Ohio. I don't know anything about my dad... He ditched me and mom when I was an infant. Mom took care of me... She was an independent hair stylist, who made some really good money. I came home from school one day, and found her tied up in the living room. Some guy stood over her and cut her from neck to crotch, and dissected her like some... science project."

John listened to this, his eyes revealing his sorrow for the man in front of him. He spat out the last sentence like it was acid, and continued to talk, looking at his hands.

"He turned to attack me, but one of the neighbors heard me screaming... I didn't even know that I was, but the cops showed up shortly after that, and he ran. They came in, but they were never able to catch him. I was subjected to the foster system after that, bouncing from house to house until I was eighteen. That's when I came here..."

Miz paused for a minute, and John thought that was all he was going to get out of the blue eyed man. But, Miz surprised him by continuing.

"A guy came up to me... He said he knew about my past and wanted to offer me a place to stay. I was all alone, no siblings, so I accepted his offer..."

That was where Miz really stopped, but not because he was done with his story. The door opened and a pair of high heels were heard clicking on the stairs. Standing there, was Gail. She wore a knee-length black shirt with a gold chain belt around her hips, hanging low. The shirt she wore was black as well, though it was an off-shoulder long sleeved shirt with a long gold necklace. She smiled at John, and then turned her gaze to Miz.

"Miz, the boss needs to talk to us. All of us," she said. "John, we'll be back when he's done. It should only take a few minutes. We'll bring you some food when we do, and I'll look at that cut, okay?"

Miz stood up, clearly bothered by what he had told John, and walked up the stairs. John noticed he still wore the same clothes he had worn when they first met. Gail smiled sadly at John and walked up the stairs. John noticed that her heels were black, and had straps that went up her leg to her knee. They were nice, he noted absently as he lay down and stared at the ceiling, waiting.

Upstairs, the whole gang was gathered in the living room. Michelle was sprawled out on the couch, and Gail joined her a moment later. John was leaning against the wall, and Matt and Punk were curled up together in one of the arm chairs. The other one was occupied by Jeff, who had curled his legs up under him and was nibbling on his lip thoughtfully. Miz leaned against the wall next to John, and watched as Mark paced.

"I've just returned from a meeting," he began, watching them all. Miz noticed that Jeff just stopped nibbling his lip and frowned, looking at Mark.

"With Kane."

Gail gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth. Michelle's eyes narrowed, John sighed, Jeff stiffened, and Matt and Punk groaned. Miz simply looked back at Mark, a frown on his face. Mark shook his head.

"Nothing happened at the meeting, except he informed me of what we already knew: the two we killed, Jeff, were the two who killed Adam and Melina."

Mark would have continued, except Jeff moved to his feet, green eyes filled with a kind of hurt. Matt shifted, opening his arms to his brother. Jeff moved over to him, curling up on Matt and Punk. Miz shook his head, turning his attention back to Mark.

"We've started a war. Starting today, if you see anyone with that goddamn K on them, kill them," Mark said. He then turned to Matt.

"Yes..?" Matt asked, rubbing Jeff's back.

"Comfort your brother and then come to my office. You and Punk have a mission tonight," he stated. Punk nodded and looked at Matt, who just continued to rock Jeff in his arms.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Punk sighed for the fifth time, impatient to learn where the drug dealer they were looking for was hiding.

"Matt, we've been out here forever. Can we go home yet?" he whined, bouncing in place. Matt sighed, turning to look at his partner and lover.

"Phil," Matt said, using the name he only used when they were alone. He pressed against Punk, leaning in close. "Do you want Mark to come in when we're trying to have... _fun_-" he accented his point by grinding against Punk, who sucked in a breath - "and tell us we have to get the hell out of the house until we kill this bastard...?" he asked. Punk groaned and tugged on Matt's hair, forcing Matt's head back as he kissed Matt deeply. The elder Hardy grinned and licked his lips once Punk pulled away.

"Fine, but you owe me," Punk said. Matt laughed and they turned a corner, coming out of the alley and moving towards the park. They saw another couple – two guys – moving toward the park too, and thought little of it. The shorter man had dark hair and wore a pair of blue jeans and a Zelda t-shirt. Matt only knew this because there was a big, gold Triforce on the back. The other one had short, sandy-blond hair, and wore a pair of black jeans and a black shirt. Matt couldn't tell what was on it.

Matt and Punk entered the park, turning a corner and seeing the two guys again, but they were standing over a man huddled in the corner. Punk groaned to himself, exchanging a look of exasperation with Matt, when he noticed that the guy huddling was their guy. The one they were supposed to kill.

"Hey!" Matt yelled, running at the guys. To their credit, they didn't run. The drug dealer, however, was gone. Punk pulled out his gun, took aim, and fired. The drug dealer fell forward, and Matt could clearly see the blood come from his head under the street light. Punk put the gun away as he jogged to catch up with Matt.

"What the fuck do you want?" asked the blond. Matt's eyes narrowed.

"That was our fucking kill, Ted!" hissed the dark haired man in the Zelda shirt. Ted put a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"Calm down, Cody," he said, turning his wrist just enough for Matt and Punk to see the K tattooed on the inside of his wrist. Before he could say anything else, Matt shot forward, tackling the blond. The blond fell, and Matt hooked his legs around his, successfully tangling them together. Cody moved to help Ted, but Punk pulled him back, one hand on his shoulder before he clocked the other man. Cody stumbled backwards, holding onto his face, and seeing that his nose was bleeding.

"You stupid, son of a..."

Cody launched himself at Punk, who stood his ground, grabbing the man and turning to haul him over his shoulders, only to be grabbed under the chin and pulled down, his back hitting Cody's knees. Punk cried out in surprise, and Matt looked up. That gave Ted the opportunity he needed to flip Matt, putting Ted on top. Ted began to punch at Matt's face, but Matt flipped him again. Punk turned on Cody, grabbing him and pulling on his arm, twisting it until Cody was crying out in pain.

"YOU! FREEZE!"

The voice caused the four to stop, looking up. Standing there was a small guy in green, and a taller guy in black and gold. They were both holding police-issue handguns, but they were only able to see two of the four men. Matt looked at Punk, who nodded, and the two of them disappeared into the shadows. Ted swore, and turned to Cody, but Cody was staring at the guy in black and gold. The cop in black and gold was staring back.

"... Cody?" asked Ted, moving to his lover, and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"... Goldust?" the small cop asked, reaching up to tug on the taller cop's jacket, his gun still trained on Ted and Cody. Goldust moved his arm, his gun no longer aimed on them. Hornswoggle frowned, staring up at Goldust with shock. Ted took advantage of this and dragged Cody away, leading him into the shadows and moving them away from the cops.

"Cody, what the hell was that?" Ted asked when they were on their way back to the house. Cody shook his head, rubbing his head.

"... Ted, remember when I told you I had a brother?" Cody asked. Ted nodded, confusion in his eyes. "That cop that stopped us... the one in the black and gold? That was him. That was Dustin."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Matt pushed the door open to the house, his eyes narrowed in anger. Punk walked in behind him, rubbing the back of his neck. Matt moved up the stairs, intent to go straight to his room and mope over the loss of killing the two Kane gang members. Punk sighed, shaking his head and moving toward Mark's office to inform the boss of what happened.

Matt flung the door open, about to drop on the bed, only to see Jeff sitting there. Jeff was wearing a pair of baggy black jeans and a long red t-shirt that advertised the zoo in their old town. Matt frowned, closing the door and sitting next to his brother.

"Jeff, what's wrong?" he asked. Jeff curled up on Matt's lap, allowing his brother to hold him.

"... You can't tell anyone, Matty. Not even Punk. This is top secret, okay?" Jeff asked. Matt nodded.

"You know I won't, Jeffro. Not if you don't want me to," he said, brushing a hand through his brother's dark purple hair. Jeff nodded.

"When I went to go after the cops, I got cornered by them. They had Jessie cornered, and I needed to get her out of there... So I traded places with her, and ended up cornered..." Jeff broke off as he felt Matt tense, but Matt shook his head, allowing his younger brother to pull the hair tie out of his hair.

"Go on, Jeffro," Matt said. Jeff took a breath.

"I was saved by another guy... He and I killed them together. But... it didn't end there. He... he gave me his name, and I told him mine, and then he kissed me."

The last sentence came out in a rush, and Matt had to wait a minute to process it all. Then, his eyes narrowed.

"He _what_?" Matt growled. Jeff shifted, sitting up and looking at his brother.

"Matty, don't. I wanted it, I liked it. I just... I wanted to tell someone. It's complicated, Matty, and I can't handle this on my own right now. Not with what happened to Adam," he said. Matt closed his eyes, taking a few breaths to try to calm himself down. He had been the only person to know how close Adam and Jeff had been. Hell, they were going to tell Mark and the others soon, before Adam was killed.

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I'm okay now," Matt said. Jeff bit his lip, shifting and standing up.

"You won't be in a minute, Matty," Jeff said. Matt frowned, looking at his brother. "He's a member of Kane's group, and I think I'm in love with him."

Matt sat there for another good minute before he stood up, looking at his brother.

"Jeff..."

"No, Matt, I know. I know that nothing can come of this because of the war, but I really do... I felt so good with him... Better than I did with Adam. If that's not love, what is it?" Jeff exclaimed. Matt clenched his fist and let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. They both looked at the door as they heard Punk coming up the stairs.

"Fine, Jeff. I won't say anything. But you're going to have to deal with this, one way or another. Don't tell me anymore details, or I'm going to have to go to Mark on this one, okay?" he said. Jeff nodded, moving over and hugging his brother tight. Matt hugged him back, and Jeff opened the door in time to see Punk. Jeff softly excused himself and moved quickly past Punk. The other man frowned and looked at Matt.

"What was that all about?" Matt shook his head, sitting down.

"You know how Jeff can be, Phil. C'mere. I'm tired."

**TBC...**

**AN:** There's chapter four. This one came out to... just over nine full pages. This is the tenth page, and I'm pretty proud of it. Thanks again to Kiharu for the ideas.

_**NeroAnne**_: I've decided I'll post the PWPs here, but they won't be up for a while still. I'm working out how much I like them, and debating on what pairings. I'm glad that you like the idea of Rey as a Berserker. I really fought with that, but I figured it would help explain the bloodlust. I can't picture him as the kind to just kill... just because. He'd probably feel better with putting them in jail rather than just killing them. I'm glad you liked the kiss, and yes, Jeff and Adam were a couple before his death. Thank you so much! My birthday was great, even if I didn't really do anything.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: Ha. Stupid net wouldn't let you login, huh? You're the second person to tell me that kiss was hot. I thought it was kind of cheesy, but as long as others like it, I'll go ahead and write my way. And I had to try to do Hunter justice... Describing him in words without drooling all over yourself is a very difficult task.

**AN**: We'll see how fast I can get out the next chapter... Maybe if I stay bored, I'll be able to get it out faster... I really hope that's not the case though, because this boredom is driving me crazy.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN**: I have to be honest... Last Monday's RAW (8/3/09) _really_ pissed me off. Don't get me wrong... I'm glad Cena won and everything, but... I need to know what's going to happen to Miz. And I'm pissed at the stupid website for caring more about Jeremy Piven and Dr. Ken than about what's happening with Miz.

But, on the plus side... I _love_ the idea of Shawn Michaels rejoining Hunter... But I don't know if that's going to happen, thanks to that little phone call Hunter made... I'm anxious now.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The morning after Mickie's announcement about John's disappearance, everything looked as though it was just as busy as usual. In truth, it was all an act. Everyone, especially the HGR unit was anxious to know what was going on. The FBI had demanded to take over the case, but they weren't finding any answers either.

Shawn was sitting in his desk, Mickie was pacing while sitting on hold over the phone, Dave was nervous as hell, and Glenn was furious. He couldn't sit still, and he was growling and snapping at everyone.

But, Dylan Postl, better known as Hornswoggle, didn't care about that. Right now, he had bigger concerns on his hands. Sure, he was the smallest cop on the force, paired with one of the most insane guys on the force, but that insane man was his friend. He had been so confused last night. Goldust had obviously known the man with the Zelda shirt, but how...? Hornswoggle didn't really see anything in the man... An ex-lover? Hornswoggle shook that thought loose. Goldust was incredibly dedicated to his job, so he didn't really have a lot of time for relationships...

"Horny?"

Hornswoggle jumped, falling off of the stack of old phone books that served as a booster seat for his chair. He landed on the ground with a thud, holding his head and muttering. His thick accent made it hard to understand what was said, but Goldust figured he should be thankful for that. He knelt down, picking up his partner and putting him back on his feet. Hornswoggle looked up at Goldust, his expression thoughtful as he rubbed his head.

"What's on your mind, partner?" Goldust asked. Hornswoggle frowned, climbing back on his chair and sitting down.

"What happened last night, Gold?"

Whatever Goldust was expecting, it obviously wasn't that. He shook his head, turning away from his partner and logging onto his computer.

"Nothing, Horny," Goldust said. Hornswoggle sighed, throwing a paper ball at his partner. Goldust had a mini-spaz attack, twitching and bouncing, stammering on 'Damn it!' so bad that even Mickie and Dave looked over. Hornswoggle waved, shaking his head, and the two shrugged, going back to what they were doing.

"What was that for?!" the blond asked, snapping at his smaller partner.

"For lying to me. Now, what really went down?"

Goldust sat there for a few minutes, debating on whether or not to tell him.

"Log on to your email. I'll tell you there," he said. Hornswoggle frowned, but did as he was asked, tapping keys on the keyboard. Sure enough, a few minutes later, an email popped up in his inbox.

**To:** "Horny" .com  
**From:** "Goldust" .com

**Subject**: Last night...

Hornswoggle sighed, clicking on it and beginning to read the words on the bright screen in front of him. Not for the first time, he made a mental note to turn down the brightness on his monitor a little.

H,

You remember that guy with the Zelda shirt?

-G

Dustin Rhodes

Homicide and Gang Related Crimes Unit

Hornswoggle thought he felt his eye twitch, and he sighed, looking at Goldust. The taller man was ignoring him, and just kept his eyes on his screen.

_You have to be kidding me..._ Hornswoggle thought, but he clicked reply.

G,

No. I forgot all about last night, which is why I asked what happened. You idiot, of course I remember him. That's why I asked.

-H

Dylan Postl

New York Police Department

Homicide and Gang Related Crimes Unit

He clicked send and shook his head, beginning to work on some of the paperwork in front of him. His computer 'ding!'ed a moment later, causing the Irishman to look up, clicking on the email again.

H,

Well... I told you about my dad, but I didn't tell you I had a brother. His name was Cody, and he ran away when we were young. Mom was a drug abuser, and Cody was the one she took her anger out on. I couldn't protect him, and dad was always working or drinking, so nothing was done. Cody was so fed up he ran. I haven't seen him in forever.

I think that was him.

-G

Hornswoggle felt his jaw drop, and he stared at the screen before looking at Goldust. If that was true, then Cody couldn't be linked to whatever happened last night... Otherwise, Goldust was going to go into a fit, and not one like he usually had.

Hornswoggle sent back a quick email.

G,

Don't worry. We'll take care of this.

-H

He offered Goldust a smile, grateful when his partner finally looked at him, returning a sad one. The two went about their business, filing paperwork and filling out whatever forms it was that needed to be filled out.

"Michaels, James, and Batista," Glenn said, eyes narrowed as he walked out of his office. The three whose names were called looked up, Mickie hanging up the phone. Hell, she had been on hold for a few hours now.

"There was a body found in the park. You three are going to go process the scene. There's a witness who agreed to meet you there. He believes that this was related to the two gangs we've been dealing with," Glenn explained. Shawn frowned.

"How does he know about the gangs? We've been keeping this out of the media," he asked.

"Apparently, he used to be a cop, and has some connections in the agency that keep him informed on what's going on," Glenn explained, his face neutral. Oh, he knew who their informant was. He had put him there, after all.

"You got it, Chief," Dave said. Mickie looked at Glenn, her eyes worried. He shook his head, telling her that he still hadn't heard about John. She sighed, head hanging, brown hair falling into her face. However, she pushed it aside, both her hair and her disappointment, and followed Shawn and Dave out the door. Glenn looked at Hornswoggle and Goldust, his eyes remaining on the latter, before he went back into his office. Once inside, he pulled out his cell, pressing a number.

"Yeah, boss?" said the voice over the phone as he picked up.

"Ted, make sure Cody's there. They'll be there soon," he said.

"Uh, boss...? Cody's... He's a bit distracted right now. Says he's got a lot on his mind." Glenn clenched his hand tighter on the small phone, feeling a crack forming in the plastic.

"Too bad, DiBiase. Make sure he's there," he hissed.

"You got it, boss," Ted said softly, hanging up. Glenn hung up and took a breath, forcing his face to go back to normal as he looked at his computer, continuing to work.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The announcement delivered by Mark about how they were now at war with Kane bothered Miz more than he cared to think about. It wasn't even for his own safety; if he died, he died. Not like there was anyone who was going to mourn him now. However, the man he cared for had been dragged into this against his will, just because he had the nobility to protect someone he thought was in danger, at the cost of his own health. Miz sighed, running his hand over his faux-hawk in frustration. He shook his head, moving out of his room and down the hall.

His feet were covered by a pair of Converse shoes, the tops covered by the designer blue jeans he wore. His chest was bare, mainly because he didn't feel like putting on a shirt right now. He made his way down the hall, turning left at the corner and knocking on the first door around that corner. A minute later, the door opened, revealing Michelle's head.

"What do you want, Miz?" she snapped. He rolled his eyes and shifted his weight.

"I need to talk to Gail for a minute, if you would," he said, his tone sarcastic. Michelle sighed, rolling her eyes and closing the door. He heard muted tones from behind the door, then a soft moan of satisfaction. He fought the laughter he felt, and smiled at the Asian who opened the door, stepping into the hallway and closing the door softly behind her.

"Hi, Miz. You want to go back to your room?" she asked. He nodded, leading her back to his room. Gail, who always looked fashionable, wore a short, ruffled denim skirt, with a white button up that was tied in back, revealing her midriff and the small, silver belly ring. She wore no shoes, but that didn't bother Miz. She was one of the few around here who didn't. He noticed that she had a fresh pedicure, her toes painted blue with little white flowers drawn on them.

Once they reached his room, Miz held the door open for Gail, allowing her in first. He picked up his scarf and his fedora, putting them on his desk to clear the chair for Gail. She sat down, and Miz sat across from her on his bed.

"What's on your mind, Mike?" she asked, her voice soft. He looked at his hands, which were resting in his lap. Gail was also like the shrink of the group, and she was always there for anyone, something that constantly got on Michelle's nerves. Whatever. The blond could suck it up.

"Where to begin?" he asked sarcastically, grinning up at her. Gail laughed softly and continued to watch him.

"I'm worried about John," he said, just dropping it. "Not Morrison; he can take care of himself. I'm worried about the John downstairs. I got him into this mess, and he can't even get himself out. Not only that, now with this war bullshit going on, he's going to be a target if Kane's lackeys find out he's here."

Gail blinked, her dark eyes slightly wider than they had been before. Well, she didn't expect that. She knew Miz cared for all of them, but he was a bit... callous in expressing his concern. She wasn't expecting this kind of outright, genuine care, but she understood where he was coming from.

"Mike, you're not going to be able to be with him forever. We're never sent out on missions at the same time, so I'll be here when you're not to look after him. Besides, it'd take a miracle for any of Kane's members to find us. As far as after he leaves, that doesn't pose a problem unless you two meet up afterwards. Mike, you're stressing over this a little too much. Just let it go. What happens, will happen. There's nothing we can do for it right now," she said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. He sighed. "I mean it, Mike. For now, the best thing you can do is just focus on taking care of him."

Miz took a breath and let it out slowly, looking up at Gail. She was right. He'd deal with it when it came along. The best thing he could do right now was just let the course of events go the way they would.

A knock interrupted Miz's thoughts, and he stood, opening the door. John Morrison stood there, his sunglasses with the crosses over the middle resting over his eyes. Miz still couldn't understand why he wore those all the time. He also wore a pair of tight, black pants with intricate silver and gray designs going up them. The bottoms were covered by white trim of some sort that started about halfway up his calf and went all the way down, covering his black boots. He wore a matching, tight black and silver shirt with matching designs.

"Miz, hate to interrupt, but we're needed. Justice never sleeps in the Palace of Wisdom."

"Morrison, you say one more thing about the fucking Palace of Wisdom, and I'm going to send you to Hell early," Miz snarled. Gail smiled, putting her hand up so neither of them could see it.

"We have a mission, unenlightened one," he stated. Miz rolled his eyes and looked at Gail.

"Thanks for the help, Gail," he said, grabbing a shirt and pulling it on. Gail nodded and slid past them, heading downstairs, to the basement. She could still hear Miz and John arguing about something as they went out the door.

As her feet hit the stairs, Gail could already tell that John was awake. She felt bad, leaving him down there with nothing to do. He couldn't sit up just yet – the stitches were holding well, but the cut hadn't closed completely... at least, not as of the last time Gail checked – so he was stuck lying there all day and night.

"Hello, Gail," John said, smiling at her. She smiled back, sitting next to his bed, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on.

"Hi, John. You seem to be doing much better than before," she said. John smiled, but stayed quiet as she looked at the cut, the cool feeling of the gloves touching the warm skin below the blanket.

"How's it look, doc?" John asked. Gail laughed before she took off her gloves, putting them in the trash can.

"Really good, actually. The cut seemed to only graze the skin, missed all the vital organs... The fact that you're so muscled probably helped to save your life. The muscles built... Nevermind. You're doing very well. You can sit up now, if you'd like."

John was surprised he was ready to sit up already, after what seemed like only a day. Maybe two, but John really doubted that. He sat up, his mind taking an inventory on what hurt still. Surprisingly, it only stung a little, but he was fine. He then looked at Gail, who seemed to read his mind. She laughed softly before she spoke.

"Is it weird for you to see a woman as small as I am completely unbothered by men bigger than me?" she asked, grinning. John blushed.

"A little... You trust me not to do anything to you to get out of here," he commented. Gail shrugged slightly.

"I do. Besides, I'm small, but I can take care of myself. Even if I couldn't, there would be no way you'd make it out the door without running into someone who could handle you, and probably kill you, upstairs," she stated. John frowned at that. Well, at least she was well protected...

"Where am I?" he asked, changing the subject. Gail smiled.

"You're at the house of a man who calls himself The Undertaker," she said. John blinked, but decided to just stay out of cop mode right now. Everything she said was going into his mental file, however.

"Why?" he asked. Gail shrugged.

"I don't really know. Jeff and Matt, who have been here longest, probably know, but I've never considered it. I heard that he grew up in a funeral home, because his parents ran it, but I don't know."

"Who else is here?"

"There's me, my girlfriend, Michelle... Miz, obviously, another John, Punk, Matt, Jeff, and, of course, Undertaker. Until a few days ago, Edge and Melina were also here..." she trailed off, looking at her lap. John frowned.

"What happened to them?" he asked. Gail looked up, her eyes sad, even though a sad smile was on her face.

"They were killed."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't do it, so there's no reason for you to be sorry," she said. John was surprised she really did trust him this much, but he wanted more answers.

"Why are you all here?" he asked. Gail wrote this off as a need to be connected to something again other than his injury, so she told him. That, and poor Gail had never lied a day in her life.

"We're all here for various reasons. Mostly, because we're all from troubled pasts who want to make a difference for ourselves. Undertaker offered us both protection, and a chance to help others who may have had to go through the same things we have."

"What do you mean, troubled pasts?" Gail took a breath and got comfortable. John had a feeling this was going to be a long story, so he settled in to listen.

"Well, we each have something that has prevented us from moving on in our lives, I guess. For example: I was born in Ontario. Toronto, to be exact. My parents were both doctors, and I knew, even when I was little, that I wanted to be the same. My childhood was okay, but I had a friend... Her parents were always abusing her, and it became an issue. She told me, and I went to tell my parents. They told the police about it, but the police claimed they couldn't do anything... My friend was killed the next day due to the abuse. It tore my parents up that they couldn't do anything about it, and they began to take it out on me. They weren't too cruel or anything, but they left emotional and mental scars I've never been able to heal. I left Toronto as soon as I could and moved here... Undertaker found me and offered me a chance to help make up for what happened to me and my friend. He even paid my way through medical school." Gail stopped here and smiled. "He filled the role of a father well."

"What is it you do, exactly...?" John asked. Gail laughed softly.

"I'm getting there. You see, everyone here is a killer. There's no way we can prevent it... Even Jeff, who is one of the sweetest guys you'll ever meet. In exchange for the safety and gifts that Undertaker gives us, he'll give us these missions. Each mission is an assignment to go out and take care of someone who is doing wrong in the world. For example, my partner is Michelle. The two of us take missions to deal with child abusers, and now domestic abuse as well. This is because both of our pasts revolve around child abuse. Everyone in the group deals with something that was related to their own childhood."

John stared at her when she paused, taking a minute to regroup, now morbidly interested in what she meant. It was hard to see the gang that he had been hunting for so long now as the good guys. But, they did... seem like good guys. They were doing a public service, after all... John hated that he was now so conflicted, but he needed to know more now.

"Can you tell me about the others?" he asked. Gail laughed and nodded.

"As long as you promise not to tell that I did," she responded. He nodded in agreement and Gail began.

"Alright, we'll start with Miz, I suppose. Did he tell you anything?" she asked.

"He told me his mother was murdered in front of him," John responded. Gail nodded.

"Miz witnessed a murder, so he's the guy that has to go out and find the murderers. We all do our own research on whoever Taker assigns to us, and then we go take care of it. His partner is John Morrison. John's parents were murdered in front of him when he was five. He was sent to live with his mother's sister and her husband, but they were killed in front of him at the age of ten. From there, he was sent to live with his paternal aunt and uncle. As the cycle goes, they were killed in front of him when he was fifteen. He stayed on his own, and met Taker shortly after. He helps Miz with the murderers. Then, there's Michelle. She had an older brother growing up. Her parents were both very into having boys so that they could be sports stars. Unfortunately, her mother died of breast cancer when Michelle was four. From then on out, Michelle was abused by her father for not being a boy. She tried, her entire life, to be more like a boy for him, to get him to stop the abuse, but he never did... She killed him when she was nineteen, and her brother died at the same time in a car accident."

John noticed how much this subject seemed to hurt Gail, especially since she said that Michelle was her girlfriend, so he tried to move it along.

"And you two go after child abusers now?" he asked. Gail gave him a grateful smile and nodded.

"Yes. We research their family, do background to make sure their aunts or uncles, or grandparents, won't abuse them, and then we take them to their new homes."

"That's... amazing," he said. Gail blushed slightly.

"The police don't see it that way..." she muttered. She shifted and then got comfortable.

"The next in the story is Punk. He's from Chicago, and calls himself CM Punk. Matt jokes that it stands for Cookie Monster, but Punk swears it means Chicago Made, or Championship Material, or something like that. I don't know what his real name is, or a lot about his past... I do, however, know that his father was an alcoholic, and Punk discovered it could be hereditary. He's never touched a drop of alcohol, or smoked, or done drugs his entire life. He used to say he had no addictions, but he and Matt got together shortly after he joined, and he now says that Matt's his only addiction. He and Matt go after drug dealers and alcoholics, and drunk drivers. They also try to put the other drug users into rehab facilities, which are paid for by Taker, actually," Gail said. John was floored. Rehab was expensive as hell! How much did this guy have?!

"How...?"

"How can he pay for it all? I don't know. Taker's always had a lot of money. Next would be Matt and Jeff... I know virtually nothing, except the basics of why they're here. I know that both of them turned to drugs after their mother died of brain cancer. Matt saw the damage it was doing to him and his brother, and he stopped. Jeff, however, was being sexually molested by his father and uncle, and felt that the drugs were the only way to cope with it. After Jeff's first failed suicide attempt, Matt took Jeff away from there. I don't know if Jeff's dad and uncle were ever dealt with, but those two met Taker first. Matt helps with drug cases, and Jeff deals with sexual predators and rapists."

"How can he deal with them after he was attacked?" John asked, enthralled by Gail's telling of their pasts.

"I don't know. Jeff is an extremely strong-willed man. He got himself off drugs by sheer will power, and he goes out and helps the prostitutes and hookers all he can. He gives them condoms and he's their protector... Just like Taker protects us. I think Taker wants to pass the... company, if you will, to Jeff when he dies."

John looked at Gail before nodding and looking down. Sure, he was the lead investigator in the Undertaker gang crimes, but now he had a new view on the entire thing. These people were all victims too... Sure, they probably dealt with it the wrong way, but they were coping the best they knew how... Could he really blame them for that?

"Thanks, Gail," he said softly. Gail blinked and smiled, standing and walking to the fridge before coming back with more water.

"You're welcome, John. Here's some more water. You should probably get some more sleep. As much as I hate to keep you down here, you can't come upstairs yet. I'll try to talk to Taker about letting you in another room, at least, but you have to stay down here for now, okay?" she asked. John nodded, taking a drink of the water, before he lay back down on the bed. Gail smiled, turning off the light and heading back upstairs, leaving John alone with this new information and his thoughts.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Jeff smiled at the various women who came up to him. He knew them all; after all, this was the most popular part of town for some sexual favors. As long as no one was taken against their will, and as long as no one died, Jeff didn't need to be the killer he was. He accepted hugs from his closer friends, and passed out condoms to whoever may have needed them. He was allowing them to talk to him, and was kind of talking back, but he came out to get some air. He needed to think, and the house was too crowded for that.

He spilled his guts to Matt, but did he _really_ mean that he may have been in love with Hunter? Hell, he'd just met the guy... Maybe it wasn't love he was feeling, but something else. After all, Adam had been the only one to pay him any attention before he died... Maybe now he was just clinging to someone else who would. Jeff had been known to do that before, after all...

"Jeff! Jeff!"

Jeff was snapped out of his thoughts by Jessie running up to him, throwing her arms around his neck, and hugging him tightly. Jeff laughed, hugging her back before setting her on her feet.

"Thank you so much for the other night. I was so scared," she said, smiling at him. Jeff grinned back.

"No problem, Jess," he said. "It's what I do. I'm just glad I got there when I did, and not any later."

"I was so worried about you. There was no way you could have gotten away from them!"

"But I did," Jeff teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"I meant on your own. Who helped you?"

"This egotistical bastard right here."

The strange voice caused Jessie to jump, and Jeff moved in front of her protectively before he was even aware of who was speaking. Hunter stood next to the man who had spoke.

The other guy was about six five...? He was muscular, but not in the same way as Hunter. He was younger, with short brown hair, and piercing eyes. He and Hunter both wore a pair of blue jeans – like Jeff – and the new guy wore a dark green shirt with a gas mask on the corner. Hunter wore a black shirt with no designs... one that accented his muscles, Jeff noticed. Jessie was grabbing hold of Jeff's red Three Days Grace shirt, and her nails were starting to dig into his skin.

"Jessie, stop," Jeff said, relaxing and bringing her in front of him. "This is the guy that helped me. His name is Hunter."

Jessie blinked, looking at the blond man and offering a smile.

"Thank you for helping Jeff," she said. "He means a lot to all of us... I don't know what we'd do without him... I'll talk to you later Jeff." She reached up to kiss the dark haired man's cheek and then ran off. Jeff blinked, turning to look at Hunter.

"Hey, Jeff," he said, grinning. Jeff smiled and waved, almost shyly. He didn't know how to act now that he was outnumbered. One on one, he had a chance. Two on one, he also had a chance, but he was wondering how good it was with the other Kane member there...

"This is my friend, Randy. He's not going to attack either, so you can relax."

Jeff looked at Randy, who was staring at him. Hunter moved to stand next to Jeff, but the younger man was staring at Randy, wondering why the hell he was being stared at. Randy finally moved his eyes to stare at Hunter, who had gotten ballsy and put an arm around Jeff's waist, Jeff noticed.

"You always have to pick the prettiest ones you possibly can, don't you?" he asked, his tone mocking. Jeff blinked, eyes narrowing. Hunter shrugged.

"Hey! I'm not pretty, you dick," Jeff snapped. Randy raised an eyebrow, looking at Jeff. Hunter looked away, trying to hide his grin.

"Then what are you...?" Before Jeff could answer, Randy was looking at Hunter again. "Hunter, what did I tell you about transvestites?" Hunter let out a weird cough, but Jeff was beyond noticing right now.

"_Transvestite?_" Jeff exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. "You think I'm a tranny?!"

"If you're not, Hunter lied to me and went straight. You're too pretty to be a guy," Randy mocked.

"I am too a fucking guy, you fuck knob!"

"Prove it!"

Randy's comment wasn't lost on Hunter, who had almost broken down in tears from restraining his laughter. It wasn't lost on Jeff either. Jeff pushed Hunter's arm away from his waist, and lifted the bottom of his shirt, going for his button, but Hunter grabbed his hands, lifting them up so that Jeff couldn't undo his pants.

"Whoa, whoa, Jeff," Hunter whispered, his lips close to Jeff's ear. The warm breath tickling the sensitive part of his body caused Jeff to shudder, his eyes closing. Just a little closer, and Hunter's facial hair would be tickling him too. "You don't need to prove anything to Randy."

Hunter put Jeff's arms down, and Jeff opened his eyes, ignoring Randy and looking at Hunter. Hunter grinned, shaking his head, and Jeff frowned. He... wanted something. God, he wanted this blond man in front of him, but that was dangerous, wasn't it...?

"Hunter, how long are we going to be here?" Randy asked, frustration clear in his features. Jeff was pleased to notice that Hunter didn't take his eyes off of Jeff.

"As fucking long as I want," he replied. Jeff smiled at Hunter, who smiled in return.

"... Just fucking kiss and lets go. I have shit to do, Helmsley."

Randy was impatient, Jeff noticed, but that thought fled in the next instant. Hunter had leaned forward, once again closing the distance between them. Jeff's eyes moved to watch Hunter's lips as they came together. Jeff let out a soft moan, his arms coming up to wrap around Hunter's neck. Jeff opened his mouth to Hunter's probing tongue the second he felt it touch his lips. Hunter's tongue dove into Jeff's mouth, and the hair-dyed man dueled with the blond's tongue, battling for dominance. Jeff felt his knees weaken as Hunter won the duel, but the older man pulled away a minute later, leaning down to press his lips to Jeff's neck. The younger man whimpered softly, leaning his head to the side, gasping in surprised pleasure as he felt Hunter's teeth bite down hard on his neck. His gasp turned to a soft sigh of pleasure once Hunter's tongue came out to soothe and caress the bite mark. He pulled away a minute later, leaving Jeff flustered and panting. His lips were red from the kiss, and he had a nice, red mark on his neck.

"Happy now that you've laid your claim?" Randy asked, a grin on his face. Hunter snorted, pressing a quick kiss to Jeff's lips before he looked at Randy.

"Alright, we'll leave," he said. "See you around, Jeff."

"Hey, Rainbow," Randy said, stopping to look at the flustered man. Jeff looked at him curiously.

"Yeah...?" Jeff asked.

"Nice to meet you. Maybe you Taker guys aren't so bad after all."

Jeff felt a pleased blush come across his cheeks at Randy's words, and watched the two of them go.

"Bye... Hunter..." he whispered into the night to the retreating backs of the two men. "Nice to meet you too... Randy."

**TBC...**

**AN:** Okay, I may have gotten carried away with the descriptions there, but I really liked my ideas. You can't blame me, can you? Their stories are all so very interesting... I can't help that.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: How'd you like this one? I think it came out pretty good... Don't you, darling? Your reactions are always SO animated with my stories. It's why I love you so much. Or part of the reason anyway. xP

_**NeroAnne**_: I got Smackdown v RAW 2008 for my birthday, actually. That was good enough. I would have gotten 2009, but it was more expensive or something, so blah. I'll be getting that one soon (because it has Miz on it!). Yeah, Mark and Glenn really don't care for each other in this fic... At least, they don't show it if they do. Matt would always keep a secret for Jeff! That's what brothers do!

_**Seraphalexiel**_: I read one of your stories recently... I think. I'm going to review, I promise, but I want something more interesting to say. No, it probably won't end well... But I don't know. Things are going to get more and more interesting with our favorite lovers...


	6. Chapter 6

**AN**: So, this fic is actually drawing to an end... If my chapters keep up with the amount of detail they have been, there might only be ten chapters. Also, I want to know what you all think of a humor fic. I was reading through some other fics here and I laughed a lot, so I figure I'm going to try my hand. If you want to read the description I'm thinking, it's in my profile, at the bottom. Also, I'll be accepting requests for interesting things to happen during that fic.

Oh, and as a running poll, how many of you reading this would like to know the back story with Rey and Kane? Seeing as this fic focuses mostly on Taker's gang, this would also be a little bit of background on how Kane got all the guys and girls in his group. If you want to, I'll write that one too. I may have a few more in the works, but you'll have to wait around for those. I'm writing one at a time, though I may do the humor fic with others, since it won't be as draining on my muse.

One last note: I know I said at the beginning that this was going to have some Randy/Ted/Cody, but it doesn't. It has Ted/Cody. Randy is... with someone else, as a gift to my best friend, Kiharu. No, he's not a wrestler, and I'll divulge who it is when the time comes.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

"It's over there," Gail whispered, pointing one manicured fingernail to the house. Michelle nodded and moved with her.

They both wore dark clothes tonight, making it easier for them to blend into the shadows. Michelle wore a pair of loose black pants that swayed with her every move, along with a black shirt that ended above her belly button and only had a sleeve over her left arm. She wore a pair of black boots that made no noise on the concrete below. Gail wore a pair of form-fitting black jeans, a black tank top, and matching black boots. She had been pointing to a five-story apartment building, but directly at the window with the light on on the fifth floor. Inside was a young boy by the name of Evan Bourne, who had been abused from the time he was five. He was, if their information was right, fifteen now. Ten years of abuse was something that Gail couldn't begin to think about, but Michelle knew the experience first hand.

Michelle looked over, seeing the fire escape and nodding toward it. Gail nodded and moved over, placing a chaste kiss on Michelle's lips before she took off running, jumping up at the last minute, her hands catching the bottom rung. Michelle grinned and stood below her, ready to catch the small Asian just in case she fell. But Gail pulled herself up the ladder with her arms, leaving her legs dangling, before she was able to put her feet on the bottom rung. She climbed the rest of the way up and pulled herself onto the small balcony. A minute later, the ladder dropped, allowing Michelle to climb up. The two women moved up the fire escape.

They hit the window and Michelle nodded, moving out of view. Michelle may have also been an abuse victim, but she wasn't good with kids. Not in the same way that Gail was. The small Asian took a breath, preparing herself mentally for what she may see, before she opened the window. The small boy with brown hair jumped and moved backwards, curling himself up in the fetal position to stay in the corner. Gail felt a wrench in her heart for that.

"Shh. It's okay, Evan. I won't hurt you," she said, stealthily climbing in the window and sitting on the bed below it.

"H... How do you... know my name?" Evan asked, his eyes looking at her. Gail assessed his stance, the visible damage. His parents were careful... There were no visible bruises on his face or hands, but she could see the traits he took on, the way he hid his arms from her sight. Michelle had done that for years, even after she came to Taker's gang... It had only been recently where she felt comfortable revealing as much skin as she did.

"I did some research on you. We got a call from a friend of yours. He said he was from your school and thought you needed some help. So we did some research and found out where you were and what was happening. Evan, this isn't your fault. Your parents are wrong to hurt you as much as they are," Gail told him, moving over only slightly, her eyes watching him with sorrow, but no pity. She had been here too many times, in another room with another boy or girl who was being abused. The last thing they wanted was pity. They wanted help, not anyone's pity.

"Who... Who's we? And who called you?" Evan asked, relaxing his position. Gail tapped the windowsill, and Michelle climbed onto it, sitting half in and half out of the room.

"This is my friend, Michelle, and I'm Gail. Michelle and I both used to be hurt too. As for who called you, your friend Jack Swagger did. Evan, he really cares about you, and he doesn't want you to be hurt," Gail said, moving off the bed to kneel in front of him. Her hands were out to him, palms up, the same way one would approach a cornered animal. Michelle watched as Gail calmed the boy down. This was what she was made to do. Gail was a healer, not a killer. Michelle was the one with the anger to kill, and Gail was the one who healed the wounds, physical and mental. Michelle stopped thinking about that and concentrated back on what Gail was saying.

"There are people who care for you, Evan. Michelle and I can take you away from this. We'll take you to Jack's house, and he'll take care of you," she said. Evan shook his head violently, curling back up.

"No! They know where he lives! They'll come and find me and him and hurt him!" Evan exclaimed. Gail looked at Michelle, who made her way across the room, standing by the door and listening closely.

"Shh, Evan. It's okay. They won't find him or you. Jack said that his parents gave him a place to stay and hide out so that your parents can't find either of you, okay? I promise, your parents won't bother you anymore," Gail said. Evan looked at the women, wearily.

"Promise...?" he asked, watching Gail. Michelle looked at Gail, her hands moving.

_They're coming_.

Gail looked at Evan, nodding absently to Michelle's warning.

"I promise. Come on. We have to go now though," she said. Michelle locked the door, moving a chair in front of it and leaning it so that it would be harder for his parents to get into the room. Both Gail and Michelle helped Evan get a bag and fill it up, and were almost done when a pound sounded on the door. Evan squealed and jumped, clinging to Gail.

"Evan! Open this goddamn door! Do it now, boy! I heard you talkin' to somebody!"

The man's voice was furious, and Gail looked at Michelle.

"Evan, go to Michelle, okay? She can carry you easier than I can."

Evan moved to Michelle, who picked him up and moved out the window. Gail grabbed the bag, slung it around her body and was out the window right behind Michelle. She closed the window behind her, moving down the fire escape. When she got to the last ladder, she simply jumped, tucking her body in and rolling away from it. Michelle had Evan on her back, piggy-back style.

"Come on," Gail said, motioning for Michelle to follow. They hit the car as they heard the man yelling out Evan's window for him to come back. Michelle drove, with Gail holding Evan in the back seat.

About thirty minutes later, Michelle pulled into a driveway of a two-story white house. The roof was black, and there were green rafters on the windows. Gail gently squeezed Michelle's shoulder, smiling as her lover put her hand on Gail's, and then softly convinced Evan to wake up and get out of the car. Gail shouldered his bag, holding his hand and leading him up the walkway to the front door. She knocked, and waited. A moment later, a rushed and worried-looking blond opened the door.

"Ev..." he breathed. Evan's eyes watered and he started to cry, throwing himself into the blond's arms.

Gail smiled. This was Jack Swagger, who swore that he would protect Evan. Gail believed him, hence why they were there. Jack was eighteen, and a senior in their high school. He had taken a close interest in Evan, and genuinely cared for him. Gail and Michelle couldn't find any family for him to live with, so it was only right that Jack keep him.

"Thank you so much," Jack said, looking over Evan's head and smiling at Gail. Gail smiled back, passing the bag to him.

"You're welcome. I think he's hungry, so it'd probably be a good idea to feed him. You have our number, if you need us," Gail said. Jack nodded, hugging Evan to him. Gail gently rubbed Evan's back and then started back for the car, only to be stopped as Evan grabbed her hand.

"Thank you, Gail," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a hug too. Surprised, Gail paused a moment before she held Evan to her, tears springing up behind her eyes.

"Take care, Evan," she whispered, kissing his forehead before letting him go back to Jack. She moved quickly to the car, swallowing the lump in her throat as she got in the passenger seat. None of the other children had thanked her like that before, so she wasn't used to the emotion that rushed into her afterward. They stayed long enough to watch Jack lead a smiling Evan inside, before they pulled away.

"You've done your part, Gail," Michelle whispered, taking Gail's hand as they drove back to the apartments. Gail wiped her eyes, squeezing Michelle's hand.

"I know, 'Chelle," she said. "Your turn now."

They returned to the apartment and moved to the front door. They didn't need to go back through Evan's room. That was now taken care of. Gail knocked on the door, moving off to the shadows to wait. The door swung open and an infuriated man stood there. Michelle didn't care what he looked like, only cared that he had caused that little boy to suffer. She pulled her hand back and brought her fist into his nose, causing it to break, and him to stumble backwards. Michelle entered, Gail following and closing the door.

Fifteen or twenty minutes later, Michelle and Gail left the apartment, closing the door behind them. Michelle had spent five minutes washing her hands and making sure there was no trace of them there, and Gail had helped her a little. The car they had taken wasn't theirs, but Evan's parents car. So, they walked home.

"I really hate that this stuff happens," Gail said, putting her hand in Michelle's. Michelle squeezed her hand gently.

"I'm sorry, hun. We can't get rid of every slime bag in the city, but maybe we can make them at least think twice, right?" she asked. Gail nodded, sighing softly. They continued walking in peace before they saw a pair of girls, who looked – and were dressed – identical. Gail blinked, tilting her head, but ignored them. That is, until one of them leaned in and pointed to Michelle. Michelle frowned, having seen them as well, but continued walking with Gail. The next minute, the twins were running at Gail and Michelle.

"Shit," Michelle muttered putting Gail behind her and getting in a defensive stance. She knew how much Gail hated to fight, so she wanted to prevent the Asian from having to. The two stood in front of Michelle, smiling.

"You two are part of Taker's gang, right?" the one on the left asked. Michelle's eyes narrowed.

"What of it?" she growled back. The one on the right shrugged.

"Just making sure we know who to send your bodies to," she said.

"Brie, that was a good one!"

"Thanks, Nikki!"

"Shut the hell up!" Michelle snapped, moving forward. She ran between the two of them, her arms out, catching them in their necks in a clothesline. The two fell backwards, but skillfully rolled back to their feet, running at Michelle. The blond did okay against the twins, but she was slowing down, losing momentum. Gail sighed softly before she climbed up on a nearby trashcan, waiting for the right moment. Nikki – or was it Brie? - was thrown in her direction, and Gail launched off the trashcan, her feet planting into the woman's face and knocking her back. This managed to distract the other twin.

"Nikki!" she exclaimed, moving towards her sister. Michelle, who was on the ground, moved one leg to stay in front of Brie's ankles, and the other went to her knees, knocking her forward, smashing her face into the cement below. Michelle pulled out a gun, clicking the safety off and pointing it at Brie. The twin looked up, eyes full of fear. Gail held Nikki off, her ankles wrapped around Nikki's knees, her hands holding Nikki's hands above her head.

"No! Let Brie go!" Nikki screamed, fighting against Gail. Gail grunted softly, moving to dig her elbow into Nikki's side.

"Stop fighting against her," Michelle hissed, leaning down to plant the gun against Brie's head. "Or Brie here gets a bullet right in the head."

"Why? You're just going to kill us anyway!" Brie snapped, struggling against Michelle's knee digging into her spine. Michelle dug her knee harder into the brunette's spine, causing a hiss of pain.

"No, please..." Nikki said, her eyes tearing, her voice revealing her fear for her sister. "Please don't do it."

"Too late," Michelle responded. Gail's eyes widened as the shot rang, and she winced, turning her head away. Nikki screamed and Gail let her go, letting her go to her sister's body. Tears ran down Nikki's face, and Gail looked over, watching Michelle. Michelle wouldn't look at Gail, knowing that she couldn't face the sorrow on Gail's face. Then, without warning, Gail did something Michelle couldn't have predicted in her whole life.

Gail walked up to Nikki, put her hands on either side of the remaining twin's head, and twisted hard. A loud _snap_ echoed in the night, and Michelle's head snapped over to Gail. Gail looked at the twin bodies on the ground and looked up at Michelle, tears causing her brown eyes to glitter in the night. Michelle moved, wrapping her arms around Gail and holding her close, softly whispering to her and rubbing her back as her lover cried.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Later that night, a soft knock sounded on Mark's door. Knowing who it was by the knock, he sat down.

"Come in, Gail," he said. A rather haggard, tired-looking Gail entered, followed closely by Michelle, who looked more concerned than anything else. Mark frowned.

"What happened tonight...?" he asked. Michelle sighed.

"We took Evan to his boyfriend's house, which is being watched by his parents, killed Evan's parents, and started back here when we were ambushed by two members of Kane's gang. I shot one of them, and then Gail snapped the other's neck," Michelle said. One of Mark's eyebrows arched slightly as he turned his head to Gail.

"Well d-"

"Don't," Gail snapped, her head coming up. "Don't you dare tell me 'well done'. Do you know how much it hurt me to do that? What did she do, attack us? Since when is that grounds to kill? I don't kill, Mark, and you know that! I don't condone it, but I sit back and let Michelle do it because the people she kills have abused children. The people everyone here kills have done something wrong and deserve to die for hurting someone. But that doesn't mean that I like the means with which we go about it. I don't like that I had to kill that girl tonight. I don't like the way she screamed when she had to see her sister die right in front of her. Don't you dare congratulate me for what I did. I want no part of this war you have going on with Kane, and I will _not_ sit back and be apart of it. I'll carry out my assignments like I need to, but that's all I'll do. I'm not killing anyone."

Following Gail's tirade, Mark and Michelle both looked at her in shock. She, however, turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Well..." Mark started. Michelle looked at him, sighing.

"I'll talk to her," she said before leaving the room, jogging up the stairs to follow Gail.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Downstairs in the basement-turned-confinement cell that John still found himself in, he was walking around. His legs were stiff from all that lying around. He couldn't take it. He needed to move, and the movement not only helped the blood circulate, but it got his thoughts moving in motion as well.

He now knew all the members of the gang by name, if not by face. They were led by a man named Undertaker, though he already knew this. The members were Gail, Michelle, John, Punk (John seriously hoped that wasn't his real name... Could you imagine the kind of mental issues that guy must have?), Matt, Jeff, and Miz... They each had a bad background they weren't running from, like most people, but were instead taking action for. It was admirable, but the law was the law... Right? If that was true, then why was he having such an issue debating on whether or not to turn them in when he got out of here? Technically, the hadn't kidnapped him, so he couldn't get them on kidnapping... There was no physical evidence tying them to any of the crimes... But there was Gail's words about their pasts... She already told him that he wouldn't be able to get out of the house without running into someone who could possibly have killed him... But that was hearsay. It wouldn't hold up in court...

John sat back down, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his head in his hands. He winced and grunted softly at the unexpected pull it made on his stitches and sat up, deciding to lean back against the wall instead. A minute later, he heard the door open, and footsteps on the stairs. His hand went to his waist, where his police-issued Glock should be, only to find it bare. Shit... He forgot they had stripped him of his weapon before they put him down here.

"Whoa, dick," Miz's voice said, carrying into the room before John could see him. As soon as Miz came into view, John saw he was carrying a plate covered by aluminum foil. "Chill, dude. Nothing's gonna happen to ya."

John sighed, shaking his head with a slight smile.

"I never pinned you as the kind of guy to watch older movies where they actually called detectives 'dicks', Miz," John teased, accepting the plate. He watched as Miz shrugged and sat down. The younger man obviously had something on his mind. While Miz pondered that, John began eating the spaghetti on his plate, looking over Miz.

Miz was six feet, one inch... Same as John. He was smaller though, in girth. He didn't have the same kind of defined muscles John did... However, he took a great deal of pride in his appearance, something that was obvious. Every time John saw him, Miz was wearing some kind of designer clothes, and everything was together, as though he had planned it that way. His face was clean, no facial hair at all, which allowed his blue eyes to pop a bit more. His hair was styled up in a.. faux-hawk? John guessed, and the tips were dyed purple. Aside from that, Miz didn't appear to have any tattoos or weird piercings. Today, Miz wore a pair of black, long shorts that came down to past his knees. There was some sort of intricate red and purple design with little, shining rhinestones on it. It looked almost like a Chinese dragon, but John couldn't be sure. His feet were covered by a pair of black boots that covered the rest of his legs, and John felt his fingers twitch to take off some of those offending clothing, if only to see the flesh beneath. He wore a black hooded sweatshirt with blue smoke outlining what appeared to be a casket... In the middle of the casket was a purple U and T combined together in what John already knew was the Undertaker symbol... He heard that members of the Undertaker's gang were tattooed on their body somewhere visible so that offending gangs could identify them...

"John, you ever wonder why we're here?"

Miz's sudden question threw John off guard, and he almost choked as a noodle tried to go down the wrong way.

"I'm here because you brought me here," John pointed out when he could breathe. Miz rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, I meant on here... living."

John chewed the food in his mouth while watching Miz, his eyes showing his curiosity.

"Uh... Sometimes," John replied, crossing his legs on the bed and continuing to eat.

"I just wonder, you know? What if we're not really here for any purpose other than to serve as playthings for some higher being? Is there a purpose? People have been trying forever to find the meaning of life, but how close has anyone really gotten? Yeah, commercials say it's to buy this, buy that, get rich, stay happy, get married. But... what is it really? How are we even sure there _is_ a purpose?"

Miz's questions were going unanswered on behalf of John, who started to zone out. It wasn't because he wasn't interested in what it was Miz had to say – on the contrary, he was _very_ interested in anything coming out of the blond's mouth – but because his mind had just taken the conversation to another level.

"Mike...? You don't have to do it, you know."

Miz broke off mid-word, and stared at John, a strange look in his eyes. John took this as his cue to continue.

"You know, there are people here who still love you. Take Gail, for example. She comes down here and tells me things about you. She sees you as a brother. I'm sure the other people here do too. You're still young. You don't have to end your life here. I mean... People care about you. I don't know you all that well, but I already care about you... You're handsome, and charming, and smart, and you're unique. Don't let anyone get you down. You can keep living your life, just the way you are. You saved my life, which shows that you're a good person, and-"

Miz put a hand up, looking down and shaking his head.

"Wait, John," Miz said, bringing his head up, his blue eyes assessing the police detective in front of him. "You mean to tell me that you care for me? I killed a man in front of you, something I should have been arrested for, and then I brought you here, where I've kept you locked in the basement the entire time you've been here. What is it about me that you care so much for?"

"Well... You saved my life. You killed a man in protection of me. Then, you brought me here, even though you knew it was a risk, and fought to protect me. Gail told me that much. And, you even made sure that the cut I got protecting you was looked at. You could have let him kill me. You could have killed me, or left me there to die, or brought me here and raped or killed or tortured me. But you've kept me here to heal, and for my own protection. How's that a bad thing?" John asked. Miz looked thoughtfully at the detective before nodding.

"I wasn't talking about suicide, by the way. I was just wondering out loud. I get that way sometimes," Miz said, looking away. John coughed, his face turning a faint red. It remained quiet for a minute.

"Awkward, party of two..." John muttered. Miz grinned before he spoke.

"Did you mean it? When you said all those things about me...? Or was it all that police, 'Don't-kill-yourself' bullshit?" Miz was staring at John, blue eyes boring into the detective. John raised his head, blue meeting blue, and he didn't back down.

"I meant every word. I really, really like you, Miz-"

"Mike. Call me Mike."

John was shocked that Miz had given him permission to call him by his real name, but that shock was quickly thrown out as Miz closed the distance, leaning in, pressing his lips to John's. John sat still for a moment, shock and surprise causing him not to react. His brain screamed at him to react. Miz frowned into the tender kiss, and started to pull back, but John reacted, pushing back against Miz slightly, kissing back. Miz's frown disappeared, and John watched those fascinating blue eyes drift closed. John took control, his tongue coming out to taste Miz – no, Mike's – lips. A soft groan escaped Mike's lips, and John pressed forward, his tongue tasting and parting those lips, entering the domain of Mike's mouth.

Then, the most interesting thing happened.

Mike's tongue began to duel with John's, fighting for dominance. John had kissed men before, he had dated his childhood best friend named Jason "Christian" Reso before they realized they'd never work, but Christian had never fought for dominance the way Mike was. John was shocked, which paused his fight, allowing Mike's tongue to enter his mouth. John moaned into Mike's mouth at the contact and pulled back, his breath coming out in pants. It seemed Mike wasn't quite finished yet, however, because his lips moved from John's down to the detective's neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses to the flesh there.

"Mike..." John groaned, his eyes rolling back and his head falling back slightly. Mike's teeth nipped and picked at John's flesh before he felt a real bite. He gasped in surprise, but also in a weird, erotic mixture of pleasure/pain that he was unaware he would like. Mike heard the gasp and placed apologetic licks and nibbles to the wounded area. John leaned back more, his head thudding against the wall, but he didn't care. Mike's lips traveled down his neck, meeting the flesh of his chest. He hadn't put the shirt back on after his first initial try... It rubbed the stitches, making them itch and tingle in weird ways he didn't appreciate, so he took it off and left it off.

And now, he was so happy he had.

Mike's tongue traced one nipple, eliciting a moan from John. He seemed rather satisfied with himself, because John could feel the smile on his heated body. Mike teased it a little longer, his teeth gently closing around the hard nub as his tongue flickered back and forth over it. John was powerless to do anything more than groan and clench the sheets in pleasure.

"Oh... God..." A chuckle released warm breath against his tortured nipple before Mike moved to the other one.

"No, John... Just me," he replied, causing John to chuckle softly before the chuckle transformed into another moan of pleasure as Mike's lips closed around the other nipple. John was so absorbed in what Mike's mouth was doing to his nipple that he missed it completely when the younger man's hands moved to the jeans covering the detective's hips. He missed the button being undone, and the zipper being pulled down, but the instant that Mike's hand landed on his already-hard cock, he jerked his hips in surprised, eliciting another chuckle from Mike.

"Anxious...?" Mike teased, his voice thick with lust, and it was reflected in those blue eyes. John groaned in response as he felt Mike's hand close around as much of John's thick dick as he could. He leaned in, their lips crashing together, their lips dueling. Mike's hand began to stroke the hard flesh, the strokes teasingly slow, each one causing John's hips to arch into the heat of Mike's hand. Mike pulled away from the kiss a minute later, looking down, smiling as he saw the pre-cum gathering on the swollen head of John's cock.

"Mm..." Mike hummed before he shimmied off the bed, on his knees in front of the detective. John was about to ask what he was going to do when that talented tongue came out, licking the pre-cum off the tip of John's erection. John clenched the sheets so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

"Shit... Mike..." John muttered. Mike silenced his words as he placed his lips over the head of John's cock, giving an experimental blow of warm air. John gasped and forced himself not to arch his hips into the warmth of Mike's mouth. Mike hummed around the tip as he began to put more of John's impressive length in his mouth. Mike, apparently, had no gag reflex, because the younger man took almost all of John in his mouth before he began to bob back and forth, his tongue tracing the base as he pushed John's cock back into his mouth, and then tasting the tip as he pulled it out. He hummed and moaned around the hard dick in his mouth, causing wonderful vibrations to cause shudders through John's body.

"Miz! Get up here!"

The words weren't lost on John, but he heard them through a fog. Mike had just put the tip of John's cock in his throat when the words came, and growled when he heard them, causing pleasant vibrations to race up John's organ, and up his spine, right to his brain. Those vibrations caused John to lose control, and he began to thrust his hips, fucking the warm, wet cavern of Mike's mouth. Mike, however, didn't seem to mind, because he moaned against it, sucking and blowing each time John's cock pierced his mouth.

"Shit... Mike--!"

It was all John managed to say before he stiffened, gasping and throwing his head back in ecstasy, his cum shooting down Mike's throat. Mike swallowed as much as he could, though some managed to spill out, pooling in the corner of his lips. He pulled away, licking his lips, and pressing his fingers to his lips to make sure that he got all of the cum off. He smirked at John, who was on the bed, panting, looking at Mike. He swore it wasn't possible, but his spent cock twitched at the sight of Mike putting the finger he captured the escaping cum with in his mouth and licking it clean.

"Mike..." John muttered. Mike smiled, leaning in to kiss John, rather sweetly for the mind-blowing blow job he had just been given.

"I'll see you after I kill this fucking bastard, John," Mike said, turning and stomping upstairs. John laughed breathlessly before he moved, gripping the wall to make sure he could actually walk. Damn, Mike had a talented mouth...

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Randy and Rey waited at the park entrance, Randy leaning against the pole holding up the entrance sign, and Rey kneeling in front of a young puppy, gently petting the creature. It seemed to have run away from its owner, and Rey was keeping it there. Randy had seen too many people stop and examine the mask Rey was wearing, but thought nothing of it, for now. If it became an issue, he'd take care of it.

Randy was leaning against the pole, his arms crossed across his chest, causing the black muscle shirt he wore to stretch across his impressive muscles even more. He wore a pair of blue jeans that clung to the muscles on his legs, with a pair of brown boots on his feet. Rey wore a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt with Heath Ledger's version of The Joker on it. His mask today was dark blue, with a silver cross going down the center, and gold over the triangles shaped for his eyes. It was simple, and Randy rather liked it.

The taller man looked over as he heard footsteps, seeing the duo nicknamed 'Priceless' coming up. Ted looked worried, and Cody looked distracted. They both wore a pair of blue jeans, though Cody wore a gray t-shirt with a black Zelda design of some sort. Ted wore a dark red t-shirt advertising Dr. Pepper, that had a vintage faded look.

"How'd it go, Ted?" Randy asked. Rey looked up, his hands resting on the dog's head. Before Ted could answer, a little girl ran up, a smile on her face.

"Hi, mister! That's my puppy, Ruby. She ran away from me," she said. She was watching Rey, who smiled.

"I'm sure she didn't mean to," Rey said, his voice soft, his Mexican accent hard to catch. The little girl shrugged and Ruby ran over to her, nudging the little girl's leg. She giggled, tilting her head as she looked at Rey.

"Hey... Why do you have a mask on your face?" she asked. Rey blinked, reaching up to touch it, before his hand dropped.

"It's a sign of honor in my culture," Rey explained. The little girl nodded and smiled.

"Thanks for keeping Ruby here safe!"

With that, she ran off. Ted and Cody looked at Rey, then at Randy, who returned their gaze with an even one of his own.

"Ah... It went okay," Ted finally replied, shrugging. "Cody was a bit distracted with some personal issues, but nothing we couldn't handle. The cops have a good description of those two Taker assholes who ambushed us the other night, so we should be in good shape," Ted said. Randy nodded, motioning for them all to walk with him. He walked a little ahead, Rey beside him, with Priceless behind, talking in quiet whispers. Not that Randy cared. He and Rey were only there because Kane was getting worried. He had some sort of weird feeling that Taker and his group were going to attack again, and he wanted them outnumbered if they were.

"What's that...?" Rey asked. Randy paused, turning to look at his shorter partner. Ted and Cody stopped too, before Ted moved forward.

"Oh... shit..." Ted muttered. Cody moved forward too, taking a look at the two bodies in the alley before he turned to Randy. Randy immediately turned his head, looking at his partner, but it was too late. The ice blue eyes had gone dark brown, and Rey was clenching his fist, the vein in his arm bulging at the strength it took to keep from losing it completely.

"Rhodes, DiBiase, move!"

The urgency in Randy's voice caused Priceless to move to stand behind Randy, who had his front turned to his partner, his stance defensive. Randy had his hands out, and wasn't saying anything. Rey's head snapped up and he whipped around, eyes falling on the man who had been sneaking up behind him. Randy noticed there was a knife in the man's hand, and he had that distinctive odor of a man who hadn't bathed in a while. Either he was homeless, a druggie, or both. Randy's money was on both, judging by the glazed look in the man's eyes, and the marks on his arms.

Rey's hands closed around the druggie's throat, before he threw him across the alley like it wasn't a problem. And for the Berserker in Rey, it wasn't. Ted and Cody were watching, eyes wide, mouths open in shock. Randy said nothing, merely watched as Rey flipped onto his hands, his ankles catching the drug dealer around the throat, and he spun himself violently. Cody winced, burying his face in Ted's chest at the loud snap that was heard. Ted held him there, unable to take his eyes off of Rey. Randy, on the other hand, moved forward, looking at Rey. Rey was breathing heavily, but seemed to be out of the daze now.

"Ted, you and Cody grab Brie," Randy said, kneeling down to pick up Nikki's body. "Rey, you get your ass out of here. I don't need you going all psycho on me again. Go ahead and get the car and bring it around. We'll put them in the back and then we'll go back." Rey nodded, turning and running around the corner. Randy sighed, watching as Ted picked up Brie's body, shaking his head. Kane was not going to be happy about this...

**TBC...**

**AN**: I know this one took a while, and I'm really sorry about that. My muse went on a weird vacation, but I got it back. I want honest opinions on what you thought of the little... mini-sex scene up there. I was seriously debating on it... Just a teaser right now, I think, works better in the long run.

_**NeroAnne**_: Yeah... I'm wondering what's going to happen this week with Sgt. Slaughter. Tonight! I'm excited. Glenn can't imagine seeing his brother... because he hates Mark. That does make it a little hard on poor Cody. Miz is very observant of those around him. With the bastards he goes after, he needs to be, right? I just figured that it would make more sense about why they do what they do if they were victims of something similar in the past. Of course... That does mean that their pasts are going to suck, but hey. Jeff is the Savior of the Unsavory. I really like that. I'm glad you liked that. I laughed so hard when I read you exclaiming about Jeff being a tranny. I've played with Jeff most (of course), and I just got the World Heavyweight Championship from Rey... Little bastard almost beat me. Thanks!

_**InsanityPrevails**_: Thanks so much for the review. I'm glad you're liking it.

_**Seraphalexiel**_: I'm almost at the point where I can spell your name without looking. I know it'll be hyper, and that's okay with me. I can deal with that. I'm just glad you're willing to give it a shot! She wasn't aware of what kind of cop he was... But it adds for some interesting drama with John and Miz, doesn't it? Thanks again for the review!

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: I'm full of good saves, deary. I had to channel you! It was just... too good to pass up! Thanks for your help on this one, even if I was obnoxious about it. I'll get to you about chapter seven soon.

**AN**: As weird as this is going to sound, I've been listening to the Legally Blond The Musical soundtrack since I sat down to write this (after the first break was all one day)... I don't know how that gave me muse to write all that I did, but hey. That works for me. This chapter is the longest in terms of page length, at fourteen pages. Thanks to all of you for reviewing!

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**AN**: I'll be honest... these next two chapters are going to be really sad. Just thinking up the ideas made me pretty sad. I've noticed that I'm hitting a sad-streak lately... And I notice this because of one thing: that one-shot I wrote. _Heaven In Your Arms_. If you like these next two chapters, I suggest checking it out. It's John Cena and The Miz, again, but it's concentrated solely on the two of them. Also, these next two chapters won't have... anything to do with John and Miz. I'm sorry... They should be back the chapter after next. Okay. Enough chatting.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Randy and Rey carried in the bodies of the Bella Twins, leaving Cody and Ted to follow them to make sure the two could do it. Once Randy and Rey made it to the door of Kane's office, Priceless disappeared to sit on the couch together in the living room, Ted simply holding a still-concerned Cody. Kane opened the door to see the bodies in the arms of the two men who went after murderers, and he roared in outrage. Rey and Randy put the bodies down, both getting ready to defend themselves if need be.

"I am sick of this," Kane hissed, swinging an arm out to punch the wall. Rey didn't move from his position, though Randy did shift, his muscles rippling. Kane stood there for a minute, taking a few breaths to calm himself down.

"I want a body from one of that bastard's so-called _children_, even if I have to get it myself." Randy frowned at the wording. Kane may have been the leader, but he didn't do shit. All he did was hand out missions and disappear daily to do whatever it was a Big Red Bastard did. Hm...

"Randy! Where the hell is Hunter?!" Kane snapped. Randy sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I don't know, Kane," Randy hissed back, gray eyes meeting Kane's bi-colored ones in frustration. "He's not my partner anymore. Rey is. Not only that, I never kept Hunter on a leash. He bit too much." Ted and Cody snickered, but were cut off by Kane's glare in their direction.

"Stay here, all of you. I'm going to find him and drag his sorry ass back here," Kane snapped before he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Rey stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"Is it just me, or does he seem more aggravated today, _amigos_?" Rey asked, looking at the remaining three. Randy's eyes were narrowed, staring at the door.

"He's extremely aggravated," Ted agreed, wrapping an arm around Cody's shoulders and holding the dark haired man to him.

"Yeah, but he's never gone out and done anything on his own. He treats us as his pets," Randy pointed out. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, turning and walking up to his room.

"Hunter, it's Randy. Kane's on a warpath, and you're the defending army. Get away from your tranny and get your ass back here, fast. Otherwise, Kane may just annihilate you both."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Jeff's world was upside down.

Not in that deep, philosophical sense as though he were debating what it was he wanted to do concerning his... feelings toward the Kaneanite, Hunter and how he was going to keep his heart from getting beaten in with the sledgehammer the older man was carrying around when they first meant. No, it was more in a literal sense. After all, hanging upside down from a light pole in the slums with the scum of the city, tended to do that to you. Besides, heights made for better thinking spots.

Jeff's feet were hooked around the top part of the pole, near where the actual light was, and his body was hanging down, startling people that walked by. His hair had just been re-dyed, making it a myriad of colors from red to blue to purple to a dark green. He wore a pair of loose blue jeans, but no belt, and a black button-up with a white wife-beater underneath. His green eyes watched the people absently, grinning to himself as they screamed upon noticing him. It was funny to see the way he startled people.

Of course, one who scares someone has the chance to get scared as well...

Jeff was so absorbed in his absent-minded thinking, he failed to notice the tall blond making his way down the street. He wore a pair of blue jeans, and a black t-shirt with a white outline of a man who resembled the god Thor. He said nothing as he stood beside Jeff's upside-down body, but did clear his throat a minute later. Jeff jumped in surprise, his feet loosening from the pole ahead of him. Hunter leaned in, opening his arms to catch the smaller man, laughing slightly at the look on Jeff's face.

"Asshole," Jeff muttered, leaning in to press his face against Hunter's chest. Hunter raised an eyebrow as Jeff inhaled, but said nothing, merely walking forward like he had been walking nonstop the entire time.

"Where are we going?" Jeff asked, his green eyes mildly curious as he watched Hunter.

"A hotel," Hunter replied, looking at Jeff in mild amusement. "You've been teasing me for days, and I'm going to capitalize on that." Jeff blinked at the bluntness of Hunter's statement, and failed to repress the shudder that rippled down his spine at the words. He hadn't been sure before, but he knew now. His life was too risky for him not to life it in the moment. He didn't reply, opting to lean forward to press a kiss to Hunter's lips. He didn't feel Hunter falter in his movements, but did feel Hunter's lips reply to the kiss. Jeff sighed softly as Hunter's tongue came out to ambush Jeff's lips, searing and dominating while simultaneously asking for entrance. Jeff played coy for a moment before he gave in, opening his mouth for Hunter's invasion.

One of Jeff's hands moved, dropping from Hunter's shoulder to run gently over his chest as they kissed. Hunter growled softly, kissing Jeff with a new intensity. Jeff let out a soft moan, and whimpered when Hunter's lips left his own. Hunter merely grinned in satisfaction before letting Jeff stand on his own feet. He walked up to the hotel clerk, finally making Jeff aware that Hunter must have been moving faster than he was aware of.

"One room for two. Just one night," Hunter said. The clerk nodded, passing them a key and taking the money Hunter offered. Hunter turned, taking Jeff's hand before they went to find the room.

They entered the room, and Hunter turned on Jeff, pinning him against the wall. Jeff felt his head bounce off, and gasped in pain, but Hunter took advantage, his mouth descending on Jeff's. His tongue entered Jeff's mouth, making the smaller man forget all about the pain as he moaned into Hunter's skilled mouth. Hunter's hands moved, skimming Jeff's sides, his fingers tracing over the fabric of Jeff's shirt, leaving goosebumps on Jeff's skin.

Jeff broke the kiss, pulling Hunter's shirt off, his eyes falling on Hunter's bare chest. Hunter watched in amusement as Jeff leaned forward, his lips pressing against his chest and abs before coming back up to lap at one of his nipples. Hunter groaned out Jeff's name softly before the younger man continued, lapping at the nipple as though it were dipped in chocolate. Not a bad idea, Hunter realized, before Jeff's lips moved to the other one, chasing all relevant thoughts from Hunter's mind.

Hunter lifted Jeff by his hips, turning and dropping the smaller man on the bed. He grabbed Jeff's shirt and growled, too impatient, too hard, to mess with the buttons. He simply ripped the shirt, sending buttons flying. Jeff's small moan of excitement caused him to yank it off of the slender body beneath him as his lips fastened with Jeff's once more. Jeff fought him, his tongue dueling with Hunter's in some attempt to gain dominance. Hunter growled and deepened the kiss, making Jeff calm beneath him and merely follow Hunter's lead. The older man lifted Jeff's torso up, pulling the small white wife-beater from Jeff's body, revealing Jeff's chest, dusted lightly with golden hair. Hunter leaned down, his attention on Jeff's chest, though he looked up at the smaller, panting body. Jeff bit his lip, and Hunter's tongue traced a nipple. Jeff gasped in pleasure and his head fell back, one hand moving to entangle itself in Hunter's hair. Hunter's teeth scraped the tender nub, and Jeff moaned, eyes closing as Hunter's teeth closed against the nipple gently, his tongue running back and forth over it.

"Hunter..." Jeff moaned, writhing under Hunter's skilled mouth. The older man chuckled, sending warm breath over the sensitive flesh. He released that nipple from his mouth, giving the same treatment to the other one. Jeff whimpered, shifting slightly, trying to find a comfortable place with his erection straining against the loose jeans. He was so absorbed in what Hunter's mouth was doing, he failed to notice Hunter's hands move, dipping down to unbutton the pants Jeff was wearing, and pulling them down, along with the flimsy fabric of his boxers, allowing Jeff's erection to spring free. It was when a warm hand closed over that hard flesh that Jeff realized what Hunter had done, and his eyes flew open. Hunter met his gaze, his hand teasingly moving up and down on Jeff's cock, and the older man growled at the lustful look filling those green eyes.

"Please... Hunter..." Jeff begged, unaware of what it was he was begging for. But Hunter knew. He moved away from Jeff's chest, placing gentle kisses down the younger man's abdomen, before his tongue dipped into Jeff's navel. Jeff mewled softly in pleasure, before he gasped. Hunter's tongue tasted the tip of Jeff's cock, and then Hunter took Jeff's erection in his mouth, holding it there for a moment before he moved.

Colors exploded behind Jeff's eyes as his dick went deep in to Hunter's mouth, brushing his throat. Jeff gasped, gripping the sheets to prevent from thrusting into Hunter's mouth. Hunter's name fell from his lips in a repeated, whispered, mantra, and he felt his hips involuntarily begin to move, thrusting in and out of the warm heat of Hunter's mouth. Hunter took control, however, one strong hand gripping Jeff's hips to keep his movement minimal. Jeff moaned and whimpered, the older man merely humming to cause vibrations to slide down Jeff's hard cock.

"Ah... Hunter... I'm... close..." Jeff moaned. Hunter licked his way back to the tip before he licked the glistening precum from the tip. Jeff lay on the bed, panting, watching Hunter. Hunter smirked, moving his fingers to Jeff's lips. Jeff opened his mouth, closing it around one finger, which he licked and nibbled on. Hunter's eyes stayed on Jeff's mouth, even as Jeff took another finger in, sucking and licking on them to get them nice and wet. He knew what was coming, and he wanted it.

After a few more minutes of sucking and nibbling on Hunter's fingers, Hunter removed them from Jeff's mouth. Jeff sat up, kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants and boxers down further. Then, his fingers moved agilely to the waistband of Hunter's pants, pushing them down and pausing to stare at the massive cock that protruded out. He continued, pushing them all the way down before he came back up, pressing his lips to the tip of Hunter's cock. Hunter grunted, watching Jeff. Jeff looked at Hunter, before he shifted onto his hands and knees. Hunter frowned.

"On your back," he instructed. Jeff blushed, but did so, spreading his legs, gasping as one finger made its way into his entrance. He whimpered softly as another finger entered and they began to scissor.

"I want to see your face when I'm fucking you," Hunter muttered, pumping his fingers in and out of Jeff's tight ass. He groaned at the feeling of Jeff tightening around his fingers.

"God... Hunter..." Jeff moaned, arching slightly and moving in rhythm with Hunter's fingers.

"You're fucking tight..." Hunter replied, pulling his fingers out and pressing his cock to Jeff's entrance. Jeff took a breath, watching Hunter. Hunter leaned down, pressing his lips to Jeff's as his cock began to enter Jeff's tight hole. Jeff whimpered into Hunter's mouth as he was stretched, and Hunter paused, pushing in only a little at a time. When he was all the way in, he broke the kiss, leaning forehead-to-forehead with Jeff, both of them panting.

"Fuck me..." Jeff whispered. Hunter chuckled before he began to move, pulling out slightly and thrusting back in. The little sounds Jeff was making made him move harder, faster. He watched Jeff's face, watched the change as he hit Jeff's prostate. Jeff arched, almost off the bed, his hands flew to Hunter's shoulders, and he cried out in surprise, and it was a sound Hunter wanted to hear more of. He shifted, sitting up, and allowed Jeff to bounce on his dick, allowing Hunter's swollen organ to repeatedly hit his prostate. He reached between them, taking Jeff's cock in his hand and fisting it in time with the thrusts. Jeff gasped and bit his lip, continuing to move.

"Ah... Hunter... I'm gonna cum..." Jeff moaned wantonly. Hunter smirked, pressing a kiss to Jeff's lips.

"Do it, Jeff," Hunter moaned back. "Cum for me." Jeff didn't need to be told twice. He cried out Hunter's name, arching as he came, thick white jets exploding onto his and Hunter's abdomen. The way that Jeff tightened around him caused Hunter to explode as well, his semen shooting into Jeff's tight passage. They lay there for a moment, panting, watching each other, before Hunter moved, pulling out of Jeff and making it to the bathroom. He came back a moment later with a damp wash cloth, one that he used to gently clean himself and Jeff up. Jeff smiled slightly at Hunter when the larger man curled up to him. However, their post-coital peace was shattered by Hunter's phone going off.

_I hear voices in my head, they come to me, they understand, they talk to me..._

Jeff frowned, whimpering when Hunter moved. Hunter grabbed his phone from his pants, snapping it open.

"What?" he hissed.

"_Hunter, it's Randy. Kane's on a warpath, and you're the defending army. Get away from your tranny and get your ass back here, fast. Otherwise, Kane may just annihilate you both._"

The other line disconnected and Hunter remained staring at Jeff for a moment, who looked back with confusion lighting his green eyes. Hunter sighed, closing his phone and pulling his pants on. He watched as the light died from Jeff's eyes.

"You're leaving."

It wasn't a question, just a statement. Hunter pulled his shirt on over his head before he sat to pull his socks and boots back on. When he stood back up, he put the key on the dresser across from the bed and looked at Jeff, who had pulled the comforter over his lower body and was sitting there, his multi-colored hair falling into his face as he stared at his hands in his lap. Hunter sighed, sitting on the bed next to him and tilting his chin up.

"Kane's looking for me, Jeffey," he said. Jeff cut him off, shaking his head.

"I hate Jeffey. My nickname is Jeffro," he stated. Hunter raised an eyebrow, but accepted it.

"Jeffro," he amended, leaning in to kiss Jeff's lips. Jeff sighed softly, frowning when Hunter pulled away. "If he finds me here, with you, you're as good as dead. I can't take that risk." Jeff nodded, watching as Hunter stood up and left the room. Jeff sat there for a while before the silence became too much. He climbed out of the bed, wincing at the pain in his lower back, and managed to get his clothes back on, though he stared at his ripped button-up for a minute before deciding to just put it on over the wife beater and leave it at that. He managed to pull his shoes back on, and grabbed the key, leaving the room and locking up before he returned the key to the clerk.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

After leaving the hotel, Jeff wandered around for a while, lost in his thoughts. He never knew how to find Hunter... The blond always found him. What if something happened to Hunter because of Kane? What if Jeff couldn't ever find him again?

Jeff's feet led him to the docks, where he sat down, his feet dangling over the water, and stared at the river, watching it move. It had a calming effect on him. Nothing was going to happen to Hunter. He was strong, powerful, and determined. He wouldn't let anything happen to himself. As far as Jeff finding him... Well, as long as Hunter eventually found Jeff, he could be okay with that, right?

Footsteps distracted Jeff and he blinked, standing up, his hands dropping into his pockets for his knives as the wind blew his multi-colored hair across so that it was partially in his face. Standing in front of him was a massive, pale man with a bald head and bi-colored eyes. Jeff swallowed around the lump in his throat, and took an involuntary step back. The man smirked.

"Afraid, are we, little Jeffey?" the man asked. Jeff opened his mouth, but closed it, unable to answer.

"You know who I am, don't you, boy? Yeah. You know of me, but let me formally introduce myself. My name is Kane."

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Randy paced back and forth, frowning as he waited. He had called Hunter, and the man sounded pissed to have been called, but he knew that Hunter wouldn't ignore the warning. Rey was sitting on the stair banister, watching Randy pace. Ted and Cody were still on the couch, talking quietly amongst each other. Randy stopped, looking at the duo.

"Ted, Cody..." he stated, interrupting their conversation. They looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Have you ever heard Kane say he'd go out to get a body on his own?" Ted and Cody frowned, looking at each other, before they shook their head.

"No. He's never done it before. He's just raged and threatened all of us until one of us went out to get a body," Cody said. Randy nodded, looking over at Rey thoughtfully. It was then that the color drained out of his face and his eyes widened.

"Oh... shit..." Randy muttered. Then, without saying another word, he was making his way out the door as if he was being chased by the very demons of Hell. Ted and Cody started to get up to follow him, but Rey held out a hand.

"You two stay here and wait for Kane or Hunter. I'll go with him," he said. With that, the Berserker disappeared after Randy, closing the door behind him. Ted and Cody looked at each other in confusion before shrugging.

"Whatever. They can handle themselves... Hell, Rey can handle himself and Randy," Ted said. Cody smiled and leaned into Ted, sighing softly as some of the tension from the day drained away at Ted's arm coming to wrap around his shoulder.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

"I know..."

They were the only words Jeff was able to utter. Kane laughed low, his tone dark as he took another step toward Jeff. The smaller man backed away another step, his breath coming in shallow pants now. It wasn't from exhaustion, but from the adrenaline rush fear brought on. He knew that this was one of the only men Mark feared, but he didn't know why. Jeff had a horrible feeling he was about to find out.

"Do you know why I want you...?" he asked. Jeff paused and shook his head from side to side. Kane frowned. "Pity. I thought you would be more intelligent. You are, after all, my brother's favorite little pet, aren't you?"

The words froze Jeff in his tracks, his eyes widening. That cruel laughter returned, and Kane moved forward another step.

"Yes, my brother. What? The almighty Undertaker didn't tell you we were brothers? Pity. You see, he tried to kill me once, when we were children. He set the funeral parlor we grew up in on fire with me inside. As you can see, he didn't kill me... Left me pretty mangled and scarred, but it's amazing what modern day technology can do to fix some burns..."

Jeff watched Kane while trying to mentally set up an escape route. Kane was blocking the easiest one, but Jeff was no stranger to climbing and getting on higher ground to get away. Sometimes, it was the only way he survived. But could he turn and get up the ropes on his left to get on top of the shed behind him before Kane caught up to him? He knew he was fast, but not that fast. Then again, he could just... run for the other dock. The dock he was standing on had another perpendicular to it, that led back to the street... Still, that did mean getting past Kane...

"Now, why do I want you? I want to kill you and cause Undertaker some of the pain he caused me. That's four of my members you and your pathetic excuse for a gang have killed. How many have we gotten...? Two? That's not enough, apparently. So, instead of catching up in numbers, I'm going to catch up in value. Quality, not quantity."

Jeff's blood ran cold when Kane pulled out a gun. Sure, it was a little old-school, but it was much harder to outrun a bullet than it was to outrun a knife. Jeff felt his inner emotions shut down, and his eyes went numb. He was accepting death, even if he did have regrets. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a way out of this. He heard Matt's laughter in the back of his head, Hunter softly calling his name, and took a breath.

"Fine. Kill me. But he'll get back at you," Jeff said, his voice no longer shaking, his tone steady. Kane smirked and shrugged.

"I know. But he'll have to get over the mourning first."

With that, Kane lifted the gun, pointing it at Jeff. Time seemed to slow at the sequence of events that followed.

First, Jeff turned his head to the perpendicular dock, because he heard footsteps. They were coming quickly, almost as though someone was running. Turns out, that was exactly the case. Randy ran for Jeff, launching himself in front of the smaller boy, as Kane pulled the trigger. The gun went off, and the bullet sped toward Randy, piercing his flesh and causing him to drop. Jeff gasped in horror and dropped to his knees beside Randy. Kane stood, frozen in shock, before he threw the gun into the river and turned, walking away.

"Oh, God... Randy..." Jeff muttered, holding Randy's head in his lap. He looked at the bleeding wound in Randy's chest as tears fell from his face.

He may not have known Randy all that well, but the man had a sense of humor, was nice, even though Jeff was from the rival gang. And, most importantly, he meant the world to Hunter. Randy winced, gasping for breath, before he began to speak. Jeff choked back sobs and listened as Randy spoke. Then, in Jeff's arms, Randy went limp, his eyes drifting closed with the last of his remaining life. Jeff gently put Randy on the dock, resting the man's hands on his abdomen, tears streaming down his face at the almost peaceful look on Randy's face.

Jeff shot to his feet in a rush as he heard someone clear their throat. He had been so absorbed with Randy that he hadn't heard anyone else. Standing in front of him was a small man, a gold and silver mask on his face. He wore a pair of blue jeans and plain black shirt, and stood smaller than Jeff.

"My name is Rey. I was Randy's partner," he said softly, introducing himself. Jeff brought up a hand, the one he had used to try to cover Randy's bleeding wound, and wiped his eyes, smearing red across his face, making him look like a painted warrior, ready to get revenge.

"I'm Jeff," Jeff whispered, looking at Randy. "I... I know you don't owe me anything... But can you do me a favor...? Tell... Tell Hunter what happened... and where I am... please." The smaller man nodded once before he turned and disappeared into the shadows. Jeff watched for a moment before he took a breath. He rolled Randy's body to the edge of the dock, muttered a soft prayer to whatever God may be listening, and rolled Randy's body into the water. The body floated down the river a ways, before it disappeared from sight forever.

**TBC...**

**AN:** I hate that I had to kill Randy... I really do. This chapter took forever to come up with... I had chapter six planned and posted almost in the same day. This chapter took me like... two days to type up, because I couldn't think of what to do when I got to a certain point. That, and I was unhappy yesterday, so the sex scene would have come out really bad if I had left myself in a very upset mood. So, I waited. I have chapter eight planned out, and I'll post it soon, okay? Gotta gather my muse again. But, the climax of the story is really in the next chapter. You'll see.

_**NeroAnne**_: The ten prediction may have been a little premature... It may end up being more. Either way, it's beginning to wrap up. I love JackEvan. It's all RAW's fault. Gail's too sweet to be all killer psycho... I couldn't see her doing it. I almost did make them fuck... But I think it'll be more... interesting now that I've made everyone wait. You should be scared of Rey. He's going to get darker as the story continues. Sgt. Slaughter was hilarious last week, and I'm just happy Miz is back. I would have cried if he stayed gone forever. Calgary Kid... That was fantastic.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: You never have to make them long, darling. And this chapter made me flush a little too... God, these men are so hot.

_**Seraphalexiel**_: HA! I spelled your name right without looking. I'm so proud of myself, it's childish. We are indeed. Michelle's brutal to make up for Gail's lack of wanting to participate, methinks.

_**CodyRhodesFan**_: Okay, all six chapters. Here we go:

I always try to make my details easy to be pictured. It's just the way I am. As far as the humor goes, I'm a big fan of laughing at anything and everything, so I try to make my fics a bit funny too.

Ties suck! I'm glad you're addicted. I love those kinds of movies... I think it's why I watch so many of them...

I couldn't picture John as a big time murderer... It just goes against his character. Then again, I had a hard time picturing Rey as a killer... But meh. I made that one make more sense, so I'm proud of myself for that.

Of course Cody's like that in bed! How else would he be? Jeff had to tell Matt! That's his brother, and I couldn't picture Jeff just leaving it top secret and never telling him.

Punk's was actually his real history. He found out that alcoholism could be hereditary and swore it off... Least that's what I read somewhere. As far as the others, I wanted some sort of plausible reason as to why they were doing the things they were. I'm glad the suspense is keeping you on your toes. And yes, Randy thought Jeff was a tranny. That seems to be everyone's favorite part...

Thank you. I'm thinking about doing it, though it'll probably only be a one-shot. That one won't need a lot of explanation, methinks. Just a matter of getting all the info together. I'm so glad you're so into this fic. It makes me feel a lot better about my writing style. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!!

**AN**: There you have it. Chapter eight should be up soon.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**AN**: Sorry about the wait, everyone. I did have chapter eight planned out, but some things came up and I'm having issues with my mother. But, here is chapter eight now, and I hope you enjoy!

Oh, before I forget... I'm going to borrow an idea from my wonderful reviewer and fellow author, Seraphalexiel, and write a series of one-shots that are all sexual in nature, to put it as a friend of mine did. I should have that up either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how busy I get. I hope you don't mind too much, Seraph. I'm also going to be using a similar request system. Tell me if you mind, and I'll change my plans, okay?**  
**

Oh yeah... Happy birthday to Lillian Garcia today!!

**  
****Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The front door was opened rather loudly for the relative silence of the house. With Kane, Randy, and Rey gone, it left only Cody and Ted there. The duo looked up, seeing Hunter walk in, looking more disheveled than usual. Cody looked at Ted, grinning slightly. The blond man grinned back, both fighting snickers.

"What?" Hunter asked, looking at the two of them. They shook their heads, avoiding looking in his eyes. Hunter rolled his eyes, sitting in a chair across from them.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Kane went out looking for you. Shortly after that, Randy ran out of here like a bat out of hell, and Rey just... disappeared in the way of the midgets, I guess," Ted said. Cody snickered when Ted called Rey a midget, but the snickers died as they both recalled how easily Rey had killed that drug dealer earlier...

"Randy ran out of here...? Why the hell did he do that?" Hunter asked, frowning. Cody shrugged.

"We don't know. He just asked some questions, looked freaked out, and ran. We were gonna follow, but Rey stopped us, said he'd handle it, and just... took off," the darker-haired member of Priceless explained. Hunter frowned, but nodded, leaning back. He pulled out his phone, absently playing Tetris. Something didn't sit right with him. Why would Kane go out looking for him when Randy could have found him easier than anyone else? Randy knew all the places to look.

Hunter had just cleared the top six lines in his game when the door slammed open, causing the members of Priceless to jump. Hunter merely looked at the duo before his eyes moved up, falling on the angry leader who stopped in front of him.

"Hunter, rest tonight. You have a big mission tomorrow," Kane spat out, his voice revealing frustrations, before he stomped into his office. Hunter frowned, snapping his phone closed as the last line began to fill up the top of the screen. His eyes narrowed as the feeling that something was wrong began to fill his mind. He stood up, making his way back and forth across the room, pacing like a caged animal. A few minutes later, Rey was standing in front of him. Cody and Ted jumped again.

"God, you could at least make a noise," Cody muttered, shifting. Ted snickered, and a slight smile danced with Rey's lips as he kicked the corner of the chair. It skirted backwards slightly on the wood floor and Cody stuck his tongue out at Rey. The humor faded from Rey's face as Hunter stood over him.

"Can we talk, Hunter...?" Rey asked, his blue eyes revealing that this was important. Hunter nodded and led Rey up the stairs, into his room, next to Randy's.

Hunter's room was just as scarce as Randy's, though it was a bit messier. There was a bed and dresser, a nightstand with a lamp on it, and a chair. There were clothes scattered wherever, a few books tossed here and there, and Hunter's sledgehammer rested against the wall, ready to be the weapon he made it.

"What is it?" Hunter asked. Rey leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Randy's dead."

Hunter froze, his eyes unmoving, as his pupils dilated in pure rage. He turned to Rey, his fists clenching.

"How and when?" he asked. Rey, to his credit, didn't react except to shift his stance into a defensive one, just in case.

"A few minutes ago... no more than a half hour. Kane went out, supposedly looking for you, but he went looking for a member of Undertaker's gang. He found one and almost shot him, but Randy jumped in the way. Jeff is waiting at the docks," Rey explained. Hunter froze again, his fists loosening. His best friend was dead because he had saved the young man Hunter had given his heart to. Rey moved quickly and quietly from the room, leaving Hunter with his rage.

Hunter took a breath, his rage overriding his sorrow, as he grabbed the sledgehammer and his jacket. He left his door open, walking into Randy's room and grabbing the picture sitting on the nightstand. He stuffed it, frame and all, into the pocket of his black leather jacket. With that, he moved, randomly swinging out with the sledgehammer, destroying the walls.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Kane's voice pierced the hazy fog of rage that Hunter was operating under, and he stopped, walking down the stairs, holding the sledgehammer in his hand. Kane looked pissed, and he stood over Hunter, looming over the smaller man, who showed no fear.

"What the fu-"

"Don't you dare," Hunter snarled, cutting off his boss's tirade. Kane looked at him, his dual-colored eyes registering his shock.

"How _dare_ you, Hunt--!"

Kane's words were cut short by Hunter pulling his arm back and driving the top of the sledgehammer into Kane's gut. The taller man's breath left him in a rush, and he doubled over, holding onto his stomach. Hunter lifted the sledgehammer over his head, bringing it down hard on Kane's back, causing him to drop to his knees.

"How dare I?! You don't want to go there, Kane," Hunter hissed, kneeling in front of Kane. "You killed Randy, you son of a bitch." Hunter heard Ted or Cody gasp in surprise behind him, but ignored them. "You walk around here pretending like you're better than us, but on the inside, you're just a wounded and scared little man with too much money and too much time. You're pissed that Taker's gang is better than ours? Well guess what, _boss_,_" _Hunter spit the word out like acid before he stood up, putting the sledgehammer over his shoulder. "You just lost another member. I'm gone."

And with that, Hunter walked out of the house. Ted and Cody stared at one another for a moment before they moved over to Kane, glaring down at him.

"You've really treated all of us like shit. It was only a matter of time, I guess," Ted said. Cody and Ted helped him up, each one grabbing a shoulder. However, instead of keeping him on his feet, they shifted his arms so that they were behind their heads. They lifted Kane up and threw him behind them, throwing the larger man into a wall. Rey watched as the duo known as Priceless followed Hunter out the door. The last image seen of the home of the previously united members of Kane's gang, was of Rey standing over the fallen body of Kane...

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

The blood on his hands from the younger man's wounds had dried, but not before Jeff had used it to paint his face. He didn't do it for the vengeance he desired, but for the memory of his fallen friend. Sure, they hadn't known each other for long, but Jeff had liked Randy... and Randy had obviously liked him at least a little bit, right? He was willing to give his life for Jeff's.

Jeff looked up as he heard footsteps. Jeff wasn't worried about being on the defense. For one, he was armed and knew how to use his weapons. Also, the blood on his face was macabre enough to ward off anyone who wanted to harm him. But, lo and behold, there was no more harm to be done tonight.

Hunter's form made its way under the dim and scarce light on the docks. Jeff shifted, standing to his feet, the wind blowing his hair into his face again. Hunter noticed the blood on his face and saw the way it was arranged, similar to that of the Native Americans when they would go to war. However, Hunter had a feeling that Jeff was just as sick of this war as he was.

"Jeffro..." Hunter muttered. Jeff's face broke into a smile and he moved, closing the distance between the two of them. Jeff held onto Hunter, embracing him, clinging to his strength. Hunter allowed the sledgehammer in his hand to drop as he wrapped his arms around Jeff, holding him close.

"He died to save me," Jeff muttered, pulling back to look at Hunter. Hunter's hand came up, cupping Jeff's cheek, rubbing it gently, avoiding the blood smeared across his face.

"I know," Hunter whispered. "Rey told me." With that, Hunter leaned down, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss on Jeff's lips. He pulled back a minute later, reaching into his pocket to pull out the picture of Randy and his wife and daughter.

"This was the only thing he would have wanted to take with him," Hunter started, a humorless laugh escaping him. "And I don't want to let it go."

"Then don't," Jeff replied, gently pushing on Hunter until he sat. Jeff sat next to him, his legs dangling over the edge of the dock. "Keep it. I'm sure he wouldn't have minded you keeping it."

Hunter nodded, turning the picture over. A small flash of white behind the frame caught his attention and he pulled the back part of the frame off, finding a piece of paper there. He frowned, putting the picture back in his pocket as he unfolded the paper and began to read.

_Hunter,_

_I knew you'd look in here, you dumbass. You always were too nosy for your own good. So, looks like my time has come, huh? That sucks. I was hoping I'd be around a little longer to kick your ass some more. You're a fucking idiot, you know that? Falling for some little, transvestite brat in the rival gang. Luckily for you, though, you have the world's best friend who isn't going to rat your ass out. You had to have some serious trust – and serious balls – to tell me that, and introduce me to the tranny. But hey, that's what friends are for, right?_

_You and Rainbow had better be happy, fucker. I had to change this letter after I met him. You were always sentimental (because you're a fucking pansy and I'm better than you), so you can keep the picture. You'll need a daily reminder of the only man who could kick your ass anyway._

_And, as promised, I'll tell you my full story. Even dead, I'm not going to back out of a promise. Hell, I'll even enlighten you as to the story of Ted and Cody, if ya want. I know their stories too._

_A few years ago, when Sam and Alanna were still alive, I got into some trouble. I was at a bar after work, pissed off because I'd just been fired because of my temper, and I needed to find out how I was supposed to tell Sam. Apparently, I picked a fight with the wrong son of a bitch, because he found out who I was, where I lived, and he went over to my house. I got home just in time to watch him kill Sam, who was begging him not to kill Alanna. He killed Sam and then snapped Alanna's neck._

_I worked myself into a rage, and I attacked him. I ended up beating him to death. I couldn't help it. He pushed me over the edge, killing my wife and daughter like that. You know, it felt damn good. Shortly after that, Kane found me. I didn't have anything left in St. Louis that I wanted, so I told him I'd consider it, and I headed to Pennsylvania for a while. I felt that I needed to continue to avenge Sam and Alanna, so I went to Kane._

_After a while, Ted and Cody joined. _

_Cody came from a... mildly wealthy family. He's got a brother somewhere, but I know nothing about it. His dad didn't really give a shit about Cody, but spent all his time showing affection for the older brother. Cody's mom, however, was a druggie and an alcoholic. She was always pissed off, and she took it out on Cody. Cody felt as though he couldn't trust his brother or his father, so he took off and ended up in Mississippi, where he met another runaway: Ted._

_Ted was from a really rich family. His dad was nicknamed 'The Million Dollar Man'. Yeah, lame as shit, right? Anyway, his father's money paid for his mother's drug habit. Eventually, though, his father caught on and stopped her funds. She went on the next best way she could: by taking Ted with her. She drug him down with her, putting him on the streets and whoring him out so she could get money for her habit. Ted's dad found out, but never did anything about it. One day, when he was supposed to be whoring for his mom, he ran away. He had Cody met up, and ran. I met them in Pennsylvania the first time, and told them about Kane. They went to Kane and I followed shortly after._

_Hunter, when you get a chance, go to Pennsylvania for me. There's a guy there. Ask around for the Brat. You'll find him. Let him know who you are and that you're my best friend. Then tell him I'm gone, alright? I'd appreciate it if you and Rainbow could keep an eye on him for me. I love him._

_Anyway, the dead guy's said entirely too much._

_Seeya in the next life, you arrogant bastard._

_-Randall Keith Orton_

Hunter held the paper in his hand, having read through all of Randy's small handwriting. It wasn't anywhere near enough to make him feel better, but it was a start. Jeff shifted, causing Hunter's attention to fall back on the younger man.

"Randy... when he was dying... said something. I felt bad that I heard it instead of you..." Jeff started. Hunter watched him, folding the paper up and putting it in his pocket. Jeff shifted, his green eyes watching Hunter's face.

"'I'll wait for you, Blue'. That's what he said."

Hunter watched Jeff for a minute before everything caught up with him at once, and he felt the tears spill over. Jeff moved, wrapping his arms around Hunter and holding him close, not saying anything, not judging, just letting Hunter spill his tears as the sky opened and the angels cried with him.

**TBC...**

**AN**: So... this chapter was kind of short too, but there's a lot of information in there.That letter was actually a last-minute addition, but I think it was necessary. As far as what he meant by the promise, at one point before the story began, Randy promised Hunter that he'd eventually tell him about Sam and Alanna. So, that's why that's there... And, as I promised, I'll reveal the guy that Randy was in love with. It was thrown in there as a promise to Kiharu, and the guy Randy was talking about, in Pennsylvania, was Bam Margera from Jackass... I know, it's weird, but it was based off an RP that we had. And Hunter's probably not going to go to Bam in this fic.

_**CodyRhodesFan**_: Yeah, I killed Randy. Apparently, the overall feeling is that.. that sucks. And I know it does, but it helps to move the events of the story along. I'm glad you like my story so much. I threw in some of the extra Ted and Cody moments just for you.

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: I told you about the ocean/river thing already. Now, as far as all that other stuff goes... I don't know. You knew what was going to happen because you are my beta, silly.

_**NeroAnne**_: Rey's calmer in this one because he doesn't need to worry as much. He's got badass-skills to help him out. Yes. The tranny thing will live forever. Jeff hanging upside down should give _everyone_ naughty thoughts. Besides, I think hanging upside down is good for thinking... it helps me. I'm glad you liked the kiss, and the sex. I laughed SO hard reading this review. What the clerk thinks...? He's wondering if the cameras in that room are working, that's what he's thinking. No, Jeff cannot dominate Hunter. That's impossible. Yes, he so loves Hunter. And Hunter so loves him back!! Because... something bad always happens? Ah. As far as Kane goes, he was in shock. He couldn't believe he just did it, so he walked away. And that caused him to get angry, which explains this chapter. I know... Poor Randy.

_**Seraphalexiel**_: I added your name to the dictionary in my word program... I got sick of it telling me it was wrong. I'm sorry I killed Randy. But, he saved Jeff!! And got these events in motion!!

**AN**: There you have it, chapter eight. I will try to have nine up soon, but I need to figure out _exactly_ what it is I'm going to be doing with nine, so... yeah. Thanks everyone!

**.: The Miz Magnet :.**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN**: So… I know this took a lot of time to post, but I've been preoccupied, what with reading other people's FANTASTIC fics, and catching up on fics I meant to read, and watching stupid movies, and stuff like that. That and I couldn't get my motivation up. I've had this chapter figured out for a while, and I'm sad to say that… This is, officially, the final chapter. I KNOW! I love you all dearly and I'm so glad you've been on this epic trip with me, but it is time for it to come to an end. There will be an epilogue posted after this chapter, but it's not really a continuation of the story as much as just a 'Where Are They Now?!' segment… Kind of like at the end of movies, where it shows the character's face and tells you what happened to each character. It's going to be like that.

Thanks to NeroAnne for letting me use her idea, to Kiharu_Aroukii for being my constant muse, and to CodyRhodesFan for talking to me randomly via PMs here on . I really, really appreciate all your continued support.

I have a humor fic in the works that should be up after the epilogue for this one, and I have _Steamin' Up the Place_ too, which I doubt will ever finish. I may start up my new fic, the one I've been thinking about and what not, as I'm working on the humor fic, but we'll have to see what happens.

Oh, and on a _completely_ unrelated note… I'm drinking out of one of those SummerSlam cups… John Cena tastes like Dr. Pepper.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

Mark looked up with a frown as a knock sounded on his door. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was surprised he hadn't heard anything from Kane… Four bodies against two? Kane would have been pissed off about that. Why hadn't he come around…? Mark closed the folder he had been examining and leaned back in his seat.

"Come in," he ordered gruffly. He was mildly surprised to see the form of Miz enter his office, closing the door slowly behind him. He stood there in silence for a few minutes, toying with the hem of his Abercrombie and Fitch shirt rather than looking at Mark.

"_Mizanin!_" Mark barked. Miz jumped and shook his head, sighing.

"Sorry, Taker," he said, running a hand down his face. Mark shook his head.

"It's fine. What do you need?" he asked.

"… I want to let John go back home."

"Morrison's home is here," Mark stated, eyes narrowed. Miz shook his head.

"The cop," Miz corrected. Mark raised an eyebrow, and Miz continued. "I mean… He's healed up, he's not going to tell anyone, and I'll… I'll knock him out if you want me to. Just… Don't make him stay here anymore," Miz asked, his tone almost pleading. Mark was surprised at this side of Miz, the side that wanted someone else to feel better than he did. Miz wasn't this selfless, but it was a refreshing change.

"Alright, Miz," Mark stated, looking down, opening the folder back up. "Tell him he can go and get him out of here. Knock him out if you want to. I don't care." Miz knew at this point that he had been dismissed, but he smiled at Mark nonetheless.

"Thank you, Taker," Miz said, walking out of the room and back down the stairs. He paused briefly to listen to John (Morrison), Punk, and Matt.

"Behind this mask, there is an idea. And ideas are bulletproof…?" Matt's voice sounded smug, like he was asking a question that John couldn't possibly answer.

"V for Vendetta," John answered, his deep voice bored with the whole thing. Matt cursed and Punk grinned.

"We're like beauty and the beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you beast, I'll rip their lungs out?" Punk sounded even more smug than Matt had. However, Miz knew that one wasn't going to deter the self-proclaimed Shaman of Sexy.

"Batman. The original, with Jack Nicholson as the Joker."

"Damn it, John!"

Miz shook his head as he made his way past them and into the basement. As soon as Miz entered, he felt a smile making its way onto his face, and genuine smile at that. It was so weird how he had come to look forward to seeing John – the detective John – so much, even though he hadn't known the detective for long at all. Miz made a mental note to save people more often.

He paused, however, his hand on the rail leading down the stairs, frowning as a thought hit him. He had wanted John to have the opportunity to leave, but what if he never came back? Miz sighed to himself. Well, he'd just be back in the same situation he had been in before John ever got there, he supposed…

Depressed, angsty, and more and more anxious to murder, just because it was something to do, not because the people he killed were evil.

John looked up as he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Gail had left him some books when she last came down, and it was good enough, he supposed. The girl had good taste: James Patterson as well as some classic Shakespeare.

"Mike…?"

Miz felt the smile relax his face when he heard John's voice calling his name. It felt good to have one person he felt he could trust with his name.

"Hey, John," Miz replied, coming into the light. John could tell immediately something was up. He put a bookmark in his book and put the book aside. The detective stood, approaching Miz, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"Mike, are you okay?" he asked. Miz shrugged, gently moving his shoulders out of John's grip. John frowned, but dropped his hands.

"I talked to the boss," he stated, bringing his blue eyes up, though John noticed that Miz didn't meet his gaze. "You're free to go home whenever you want." With that said, Miz turned to walk back up the stairs. John didn't know why, but that wasn't the main focus of his concern right now. He just knew that if he let Miz go now, he'd never see him again. So, John reached out, putting a hand on Miz's arm, stopping the younger man. Miz blinked and turned, looking at him.

"Mike… I don't want to go home. Home is… it's the past, and I've come to find something very dear to me here," John said. The confusion on Miz's face caused John to go on. "I mean… I was a little put off when I first got here because I was dropped down here and left alone. But now? I met Gail, and I already consider her a friend. But, more importantly than that, I met you. And, I know that we haven't known each other all that long, but… But I already have very strong feelings for you, Mike. And this has… nothing to do with… uh…" John turned a little red and started to look away. Miz stopped him, putting one hand on John's cheek to meet his eyes.

"Me blowing you," Miz stated, his tone blunt. However, John saw the smirk on his face, and smiled.

"That," John agreed, still not admitting to it. "But, the truth is, I don't want to be away from you, Mike."

Miz looked at John, his eyes wide in surprise. He was overwhelmed by the truth of what it was John was saying. Miz opened his mouth, but couldn't find anything to say. Mike "The Miz" Mizanin was completely speechless. However, John seemed to be aware of what was needed here.

He leaned in, his hands touching Mike's neck gently, bringing the smaller man in. Mike's eyes fluttered closed as John's lips pressed against his. Immediately, his body felt overwhelmed, on fire, and yet, not hot enough, all at the same time. John's tongue snaked out, tasting Mike's lips, causing a small moan of satisfaction to come from the smaller man. John's answering moan was a little deeper, but showed he was feeling the same things as Mike.

John pulled back a minute later when breathing became essential. However, he didn't give Mike time to adjust to this. John moved down and nibbled on Mike's neck, causing a soft gasp of pleasure to escape the blond. John's lips attached to a spot on Mike's neck, biting and licking at the spot. Mike gasped again, his hands holding onto John's head, fingers brushing back the short-cropped brown hair. John's name fell from his lips in a repeated whisper he couldn't seem to say enough. John smirked lightly before he pulled back. Mike whimpered, but John silenced him with a gentle kiss to his lips. He then reached down, taking the hem of Mike's Abercrombie and Fitch shirt in his hand and pulling it up, off of Mike's body.

The golden-toned torso was revealed to John and he reveled in it, pausing a moment to admire Mike's body. Mike was watching him, he could feel it, so he responded. He brushed a kiss over Mike's lips again before trailing kisses down Mike's collar and chest, touching his lips to Mike's nipple. The man gasped in surprise, his blue eyes flying open as he held onto John.

"Shit… John…" Mike moaned softly as John's teeth closed over the nub, his tongue flicking it back and forth, causing Mike to arch slightly. John wasn't finished with his surprises, however. His free hand, the one that wasn't gripping Mike's hip, moved swiftly, unbuttoning Mike's jeans and sliding the zipper down. Mike gasped in surprise, looking down when his hard erection popped out. John let go of Mike's nipple, looking down before smirking up at Mike.

"Commando, Mike…?" he asked, his voice both husky and teasing at the same time. Mike took a breath and smirked back.

"You gonna talk or you gonna act…?"

John chuckled and moved down, pulling down Mike's jeans as he went. When he was eye to eye, so to speak, with Mike's cock, he smirked up at Mike, who was watching him with hooded eyes. John smiled when the tip of that talented tongue came out and licked his lip.

"Please…" Mike begged. John chuckled softly before he took the base of the hard cock in his hand, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of the organ before he licked the tip. He then took all of Mike's cock in his mouth without warning, causing Mike to groan aloud and bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to prevent from thrusting into John's warm mouth. John hollowed his cheeks, taking more of Mike's cock in his mouth, before he began to bob up and down, taking the organ in and out of his mouth, slicking it up with his own saliva. Mike groaned, but couldn't prevent it anymore. His hips began shallow thrusts, but John simply relaxed his throat muscles to take all of Mike's impressive length into his mouth and throat. When Mike's words became incoherent, John pulled back, licking his lips. Mike watched him, his breathing heavy, his cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes glazed.

"John…" he moaned. John smirked and stood, dropping his pants and removing his shirt in one quick movement. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, not paying enough attention – or really caring enough – to bother to look where they landed. He knew that they'd find their clothes when the time came anyway.

Without bothering to explain, John gently moved Mike, pushing the smaller man onto the bed, moving so that he was holding himself above Mike. He leaned in to kiss Mike gently, reaching down with one hand to pin both of Mike's above his head. Breaking the kiss, John placed his fingers up to Mike's lips. Mike's mouth opened and he watched John as he sucked and licked on John's fingers, paying special attention to each one individually before he paid attention to the fingers as one unit.

He licked them, slicking them up, before John pulled his fingers from Mike's mouth. He replaced his fingers with his lips and reached down, putting one spit-slick finger to Mike's entrance, pushing in. Mike's gasp was swallowed by John's lips, and he slowly pushed the finger in, pulling out, and repeating the process. Mike moaned into John's mouth, a louder moan escaping when another one of John's fingers was pressed into his entrance. Mike broke the kiss, arching his hips into John's, grinding their hard erections together. John moaned softly too, scissoring his fingers in Mike's tight hole.

"John… please…" he moaned, biting his lip and arching again.

"I don't want to hurt you," John whispered into Mike's ear, kissing the lobe softly. Mike paused, looking at John, before he arched again, this time softer.

"John… you won't hurt me… but thank you…" Mike replied, his arms moving to wrap his arms around John's neck, pulling him down and kissing him. They had kissed before, but this one had more love, more care in it, than their previous kisses. John smiled as he pulled back, removing his fingers and positioning himself to enter Mike. Mike nodded, and John rolled his hips forward, pushing into Mike's tight heat. Mike cried out softly, arching into John as John entered him completely. He held himself there a minute, panting above Mike. Mike smiled at him, nodding.

John pulled out and thrust back in, setting a steady rhythm as he fucked Mike. Mike moaned, arching and holding onto John's back. John felt his short nails cling to John's skin, the small nails tearing his flesh, but John didn't mind. It felt good.

"John… John, shit… touch me. Please, fucking touch me," Mike moaned, arching. John reached between them, grabbing Mike's cock and stroking it in time with his thrusts. He felt the tension build, noticed the way that Mike's panting increased. They were both close, and he wanted so bad to hear Mike cry his name, hear his name fall from those gorgeous lips as he spilled himself inside Mike…

"John… John, I'm cumming… Shit, John--!"

John's name shot from Mike's lips as Mike came, spilling his seed on John's hand and his own stomach. The way Mike called his name, the way Mike's ass clenched around his dick, it was all too much for John. Mike's name spilled from his lips in a hoarse cry as he came inside Mike, his seed filling Mike to the point of overflow. John collapsed, moving off of Mike to prevent from crushing the smaller man under him. He held Mike close, unbothered by their sticky bodies. He just liked the way that Mike felt in his arms.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

After a short nap and a lot of laughter over cleaning themselves up, John and Miz made their way up the stairs, hand in hand, fully dressed. John looked around the house, noticing the expensive furniture and walls, the way they held the expensive and ornate decorations, statues, pictures, without any problem. John was surprised and almost saddened to see that there were no pictures on the wall of the people in this 'family'.

A minute later, a tall man wearing blue jeans and a black muscle shirt came up, his dark hair hanging down, walked up to them. He looked at Miz, then at John, and gazed for a minute at their joined hands.

"Taker," Miz greeted, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the taller man. John stared up at the man in awe, amazed that he was finally seeing the man who called himself Undertaker, the man who stayed away from the cops and avoided detection for years. And this was why. Everyone on the force expected him to be some big, muscle head with bloody hands and a scythe or something, but he was a normal looking guy. John could have passed him on the street before, and he never would have known.

"Miz. I see you're going to ask about him staying here, aren't you?" he asked. John looked at Miz, his eyes lit with joy. Miz nodded, and Taker shrugged.

"He stays in your room with you, and he'd better not turn us in," Taker broke off, looking at John. "You do it, and I dare you to run. You can't hide from the Deadman. I will be more than happy to find you, and I _will_ find you."

Miz rolled his eyes and started to turn, but John stopped him, looking at Taker.

"I've come to know two of your members. I'm not going to turn you in, because it would hurt them. I wouldn't hurt Mike, or Gail, for anything," John stated. One of Taker's eyebrows came up, and a grin came across his face.

"Not bad, kid," he said. "But keep in mind that I mean it, regardless of how much I may like you." With that, Taker turned and walked away. Miz grinned and led John into the sitting room. John noticed the room was full of people, and of conversation.

A man sat in the chair under the window, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans, no shoes, and no shirt, which showcased his fantastic abs. He had brown hair that had more bounce and body than any other guy's hair he'd ever seen… It came close to Mickie's too. On the couch adjacent to the chair was Gail, who was curled up to a tall blond woman. The other woman's hair was straight and up in a ponytail. She had on a pair of blue jean shorts, Daisy Duke style, a pair of light brown cowboy boots, and a white shirt that was tied under her breasts, revealing a tanned torso. There were two men on the floor in front of the television too. One had dark, curly hair in a loose ponytail, and the other had silky dark hair, that hung to his shoulders. They each wore blue jeans and some kind of black shirt, though John couldn't make out what was on them. They were holding controllers and arguing.

"No! The stupid key is down there, you fuck munch!"

"Fuck munch? Matt, I oughtta kick your ass right here, douche monkey!"

"Douche monkey? What kind of bullshit have you been reading, Punk?"

"John!"

Gail's voice snapped John – and Miz – out of their amusement at the argument going on between the two dark heads in front of the television. They both turned, allowing John to see that one wore a DARE shirt – something he hadn't seen in _forever_, and the other wore a shirt that had a weird design on it, though it seemed like it had been drawn on.

"Hey, Gail," John said, grinning. The shirtless guy on the chair tilted his head.

"Miz…?" he asked. Miz shook his head, pointing to everyone in order as he introduced them.

"That's Punk and Matt, the girl with Gail is Michelle, and that's my partner, John Morrison. Call him asshole. He'll respond," Miz said. John Morrison sneered a little, but ignored him.

"Nice to meet you all… I'm John Cena," John said, smiling. Gail gave him an encouraging smile, and he winked back. It was a little weird to be around them all, seeing them bicker and talk without looking like killers, even though he knew their back stories.

"John, let's go upstairs. I'll show you around," Miz said, dragging John's attention back to him. John smiled and nodded, following the smaller man up the stairs.

No sooner had the door closed upstairs than the front door opened. Gail blinked and stood, trying to get a good sight on who had walked in the door. When she saw, her eyes widened, and she gasped.

Michelle was up in an instant, followed by John, Punk, and Matt. They stood behind Gail, looking at Jeff, who still had dried blood on his face. But, the biggest shock was the man standing behind him, towering over Jeff. Matt's eyes narrowed instantly, and Punk and John grabbed one of his arms while Michelle held Gail.

"Jeff… Jeff, are you okay?" Gail asked, her eyes wide and sweet. Jeff smiled at Gail, reaching behind him to grab one of Hunter's hands. The sight of Hunter's large hand, and the sledgehammer in his other hand, holding his little brother's, caused Matt to jerk free and launch himself over to them, grabbing Jeff and throwing him to the side.

"Hands off my brother!" he snarled. Hunter shifted, trying to prevent the blows that Matt was throwing at him, while not hitting him back. It was obvious that this guy was important to Jeff, whoever he was.

"Matty! Matt, stop!" Jeff cried. Mark stormed into the room a minute later, but Matt hadn't stopped. Mark yelled something, but it was swallowed up by another yell from Matt.

"MATTHEW MOORE HARDY, STOP RIGHT NOW!"

The sound of Jeff yelling caused Matt to pause, which was enough for Mark to grab the elder Hardy and lift him, his feet off the ground.

"Matty, God! If you would have just stopped for a second, I would have explained everything!" Jeff exclaimed, moving over to Hunter and helping him up.

"I'm fine, Rainbow," Hunter said, watching Jeff. A smile eased its way onto Jeff's face as he heard the nickname.

"Good. Matt, this is Hunter. Hunter, this is my brother Matt, his boyfriend Punk, John, Michelle, her girlfriend Gail, and our leader, Taker," Jeff introduced, pointing to everyone as they were introduced. Mark looked at Hunter and his eyes narrowed.

"He's one of Kane's. Kill him," Mark ordered. Matt let out an animalistic growl and started forward, but Jeff stood fast in front of Hunter.

"No!" Jeff said. The sound of Jeff contradicting him caused Mark to look at the younger Hardy.

"What did you say…?" Mark asked, his voice deadly.

"No, Mark. Let him tell you his story, please." Jeff's eyes were begging Mark, and Mark knew that Jeff may just go off the deep end if he didn't take a minute to listen.

"I'm listening," Mark growled.

"I was a member of Kane's," Hunter said, taking his prompt from Jeff. "Up until tonight, when he went out looking for Jeff here. My best friend took the bullet that was meant for Jeff. He was also a member of Kane's… group. When I found out, I left. I don't know what happened to the bastard, but I hope he rots."

Jeff looked at Mark, but was prevented from saying anything by Gail's gentle touch on his arm. He looked at her, blinking.

"That's why the blood is on your face, isn't it…?" she asked. Jeff smiled faintly and nodded. Mark looked at Hunter and then at Matt.

"Fine. You can stay here, as long as you swear your allegiance to me. You've seen that my boys, and Michelle, can kill you faster than you can kill them. If you dare to double cross me, they will kill you," Mark stated. Hunter nodded.

"Consider my allegiance sworn," Hunter stated. Mark nodded and then looked at Matt.

"You're in charge. I'm going out. I'll be back later," he stated. He then walked out without another word, leaving his gang staying there. Gail smiled and walked up to Hunter, her form tiny compared to Hunter's massive one. She gently touched his hand, removing the sledgehammer and placing it against the wall.

"Welcome to the family, Hunter," she said, smiling. "I hope you like it here."

With that, Gail took Michelle's hand and moved back to the couch. Michelle gave Hunter a cursory look before she followed Gail. John rolled his eyes and turned, going back to the chair, joining Michelle and Gail in conversation. Matt, on the other hand, looked Hunter up and down, Punk standing next to him. Matt then looked at Jeff.

"Jeffro, you could do much better," he stated. The smile on Jeff's face was enough to relax Hunter. Jeff turned to Punk, looking him up and down.

"You too, Matty," he replied. Punk looked shocked. Matt shrugged.

"Only if I was dating you," he stated. Jeff gasped softly, his face lighting up.

"What a great idea! Let's ditch the Straight-Edge bitch and this big muscle head and date one another!" Jeff said. Matt grinned, only to be pulled back by Punk.

"Fuck that. Love ya, Jeff, but this Hardy is mine," Punk stated. Matt leaned on Punk, grinning. Jeff was pulled back, gently, by Hunter, who held the smaller man to him. Jeff beamed back at Matt, laughing as the four of them began to tease one another, a bond beginning to form.

**TheDarknessThatConsumes**

While the positive energy was all focused at Mark's house, Mark was far away from those good vibes. He made his way down the familiar streets, walking up to a house and walking in without bothering to knock. He was the Deadman, after all, and he didn't fear anything this house could offer him. A frown crossed his features at the lack of noise, but he crossed the threshold, entering the living room, seeing a note on the TV that had his name on it. He frowned, walking over and plucking it off the television.

_Mark,_

_You know who I am, and you know how I met your brother. However, I don't think you know the full extent of __**who**__ I am. You'll find out when you watch the video. I made it real simple. Just turn on the TV and press Play. You should get all the answers you need from there._

_-Rey Mysterio-_

Mark frowned at the note, but did as it said, putting the note in his pocket. He turned on the TV and picked up the remote, pressing play with a frown.

The scene that unfolded was of his brother, Kane, on his hands and knees, Rey standing over him. The door slammed closed, leaving the two of them alone.

"Rey… Rey, go and kill them," Kane demanded, his voice angry. Rey's face was expressionless behind the mask he wore, and Kane looked up at him. "What are you doing here?! I said get them!" The rising volume of Kane's voice was a sure indication of his anger.

"No, _senor_," Rey replied, watching Kane. "You obviously don't know as much about the Berserkers as you thought you did. If you had, you would have known better than to have me repay my Life Debt in this way. You see…" Rey began to speak, moving slightly so that he was kneeling next to Kane, his blue eyes intense as he watched Kane.

"When a Berserker's life is saved, he swears his life to the person who saved him. However, there are certain limitations we have. For example, the first time we find out about the person who saved us killing another, the Life Debt is void. What you did tonight to Randy was despicable, and it also freed me from my Life Debt. The way you would have killed that young man was also a violation of the Life Debt. Now, I have the freedom to do whatever it is I wish," Rey stated. Kane's bi-colored eyes came up, looking horrified.

However, he had no more time to process what it was that Rey had said. With lightning fast speed, Rey stood up, putting his hands together and slamming his full weight into Kane's neck, causing the larger man to drop.

Mark watched the tape with morbid fascination as Rey methodically and ritually cut Kane to pieces with a sharp knife he had been hiding in the pocket of his jeans. Rey was muttering rapidly in Spanish as he did this, words falling from his lips in almost a prayer-like style. When it was over, Rey pulled a small bag out of his pocket, reaching in and spreading the fine contents of whatever it was around Kane's remains in a circle. After that, he put the pouch back in his pocket. He then grabbed a small canteen, pouring the contents on the remains, and lighting them on fire. When the fire got to the circle, it was dispelled, leaving nothing but ashes.

Rey's face appeared in front of the camera, taking up the whole screen.

"Undertaker, my debt to you is fulfilled. I hope this serves an important meaning to you as well. Now, we are all finally free from the darkness that consumes."

**-Fin-**

**AN**: There you have it, folks. It is officially over, pending the epilogue. I hope you like this final chapter, and stay tuned for the epilogue. By the time I have that up, I should have decided whether or not I'm going to write out another full chapter, or move onto the humor fic. I'm so proud of myself because this is the first fic I've ever actually finished, that wasn't (of course) a one-shot.

_**NeroAnne**_: They will. It's just a matter of time, but thanks for the concern. Cody and Ted have a sex-dar! They know things. Thank you! This would totally be an epic movie. Yeup. Ted and Cody were looking for a reason to go. And no… Rey didn't eat Kane. The imagery was too epic for me to ignore. Poor, asshole, Randy…

_**Kiharu_Aroukii**_: Yes, your beloved Bam. I know! I'm so happy this as gone well. Thanks for your help.

_**CodyRhodesFan**_: I love Tetris… I couldn't separate Hunter and Sledgie! That's like… That's like breaking up DX forever! IMPOSSIBLE! I loved the imagery too much to pass up. I call Jeff Rainbow, and I imagine a lot of people do. It sounds perfect because… they're so in love with each other? At least, I think they are! It _is_ so Randy! You're welcome.

**AN**: So, I'm just going to say in closing that… I'll have the epilogue up soon! Stay tuned, and don't give up on me just yet!

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


	10. Epilogue

**AN**: As promised, here is the epilogue to _The Darkness That Consumes_. I'm so glad you all liked it and reviewed it. Keep in touch, for I will be posting it within the next week, I promise. Also, for those who are waiting for chapter two of _Steamin' Up The Place_, that is also coming up here soon. Just gathering all the muse I need for it. Also, there is a reason that you see Mickie and Dave before you see what happened to John. Everything in theirs will make sense when you read John's.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners. The idea is originally property of NeroAnne, who gave me permission to write this story. Thanks again.

**Shawn Michaels**

Shawn was flabbergasted by the turn of events. The big cheese, the _commissioner_ of the New York City Police Department had come up to him. He informed Shawn that Glenn Jacobs had disappeared - which was something the whole rest of the department had already guessed - and that the police needed a new chief to take his place. One can imagine Shawn's surprise when the commissioner had asked Shawn Michaels to fill in the other man's spot.

Shawn had agreed, of course, and had become Police Chief Shawn Michaels. Of course, that meant that his strange partners, Dustin Rhodes and Dylan Postl, were on their own for the Kane cases, but it worked for Shawn.

Six months after Shawn accepted the promotion, someone had called in to say that Glenn Jacobs was dead. They left no name, no number, and no trace, but said that Glenn Jacobs had been killed in a fire. When officials arrived where the mysterious voice had told them to, all they found was the burned shape of a cross in the middle of a barren field.

**Dustin "Goldust" Rhodes and Dylan "Hornswoggle" Postl**

Upon learning of Shawn's promotion, Goldust got a promotion as well. Seeing as his previous commanding officer had been promoted to police chief, Goldust was promoted to take his place. While man suspected Hornswoggle may be jealous of his friend's promotion, but Hornswoggle couldn't think of a better man to gain the promotion. Hell, he had taken Goldust out for drinks the night after they found out.

**Mickie James and Dave "The Animal" Batista**

Shortly after the discovery of what had happened with John Cena, Shawn had promoted Mickie James to lead the Undertaker case. Mickie was thrilled to hear it, even if the circumstances that had made this happen were a bit saddening. As for Dave Batista, he was officially granted a position in the Homicide and Gang-Related Crimes Unit, with no threats to send him back to the narcotics unit.

**Rey Mysterio**

After making the video of Kane's death, Rey left the video where it needed to be, and the note for Mark, and left. Deciding that he wanted to be bound by the Life Debt no longer, Rey went to San Diego, California, joining a wrestling corportation, where he was informed that he shouldn't ever have to deal with the sight of blood. Quoting some medical condition, he explained that when he saw blood, bad things happened to him. The people who signed him in assured him that blood didn't spill too often. With that, Rey was able to sign on as a professional wrestler, and was sent to a training camp before allowed into the main circuits. He instantly became a fan favorite, both with the mystery of why he wore the mask, and his friendly and outgoing attitude.

**Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes**

Upon leaving Kane, Ted and Cody went out their separate ways. However, they made a stop first. Cody wanted to see his brother again, and Ted was helpless to stop him. So, they followed Goldust home one night, and waited about a half hour for him to get settled in before they knocked on the door. Ted kissed Cody before disappearing into the shadows, allowing his lover and his brother to catch up on old times.

About a month later, Ted and Cody went out on a date to see a wrestling match. One can imagine their surprise when the announcer said that one of the competitors would be Rey Mysterio. They wrote it off as coincidence before the small man made his way out to the ring. The rest of the night, the duo known as Priceless were laughing so much, they didn't even know who won the match.

**Gail Kim and Michelle McCool**

After the entire fiasco with Kane's death, Gail decided that being involved in killing like this wasn't anything she could do. So, she spoke to Taker, promised her oath to keep her mouth shut, and was hired by a psychologist, and offered the opportunity to help abused and neglected children. During this time, Michelle continued her job with Taker, but brought the children to Gail for help before she took them to their new homes. All in all, the system worked rather well for them. All of them.

**Undertaker's Gang - John Morrison, Matt Hardy, Phil "Punk" Brooks, Jeff Hardy, and Hunter Hearst Helmsley**

Of all the members of Taker's gang, the only one who didn't change at all, was John Morrison. He still killed murderers and spoke about the Palace of Wisdom. And he was still told to shut up about it. Matt and Punk stayed together, though Matt and Jeff constantly teased Hunter and Punk by acting as though they were going to leave their respective lovers to be with each other. Mark heard about how well Jeff and Hunter had worked together in taking out the Hart Dynasty, and he put them together for sex crimes. Six months after Randy's death, Hunter and Jeff took some time off to go to Pennsylvania and tell Randy's lover what had happened. While there, Hunter proposed to Jeff, and Jeff accepted.

As for Taker, nothing changed with him, except he was a bit moodier for a few months after Kane's death. He didn't speak over it, but did begin to teach Jeff what was needed to take over the gang.

**Mike "The Miz" Mizanin and John Cena**

Miz remained with Taker, mostly unchanged as well. He had taken John back to the detective's house and helped him move his things in. However, John left a few things there and asked for a few days to get out of his lease and to find out what to do about his job. Miz had given John the space he needed, and John had gone to the police station, surprised to find that Shawn was made police chief. He found out what had happened as far as Glenn was concerned - what they had known at the time - and then handed his resignation in to Shawn. He also suggested that Mickie be promoted to take his place.

After leaving John alone in his apartment, Miz had gone for a walk, his feet leading him back to the alley where it had all began only days ago, though it felt like years. Miz smiled as he stood in the same spot he had been in when he first saw John, aiming to protect him, only beacause he was a police officer and that was what police did. He shook his head, closing his eyes as a breeze filled the air, inner peace coming to him.

A minute later, he felt hands cover his eyes, and inhaled the familiar scent of the man he had learned could change the whole world in as little as a few days. At least, that was what it felt like to Mike. He felt the man lean forward, warm breath tickling Mike's ears as he spoke.

"Guess who..."

**-Fin-**

**AN**: Alright. There you have it. The official end of _The Darkness That Consumes_. Thanks again to all of you who have helped me, to those that have reviewed, and to you who just read it. If you haven't reviewed before now, that's cool, but I do ask that you reveiw to let me know what you thought of the story. I would genuinely like to know your opinions, even if you hated it.

Special thanks once again to **Kiharu_Aroukii** and **NeroAnne** for all your help, and for letting me use your ideas.

Until the next fic, I bid you farewell.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


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